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This  series  of  Scandinavian  Classics  is  published 
by  The  American-Scandinavian  Foundation  in  the 
belief  that  greater  familiarity  with  the  chief  literary 
monuments  of  the  North  will  help  Americans  to  a 
better  understanding  of  Scandinavians,  and  thus  serve 
to  stimulate  their  sympathetic  cooperation  to  good  ends 


SCANDINAVIAN  CLASSICS 
VOLUME  VIII 

ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

BY 

BJORNSTJERNE  BJORNSON 


ESTABLISHED  BY 
NIELS     POULSON 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

BY 
BJORNSTJERNE  BJORNSON 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE   NORWEGIAN 

WITH   INTRODUCTION   AND   NOTES 

BY 

WILLIAM    MORTON    PAYNE,  LL.D. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  AMERICAN-SCANDINAVIAN   FOUNDATION 

LONDON:   HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

I917 

P 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  biographer  of  Bjornson,  Christian  Collin,  char- 
acterizes both  Bjornson  and  Ibsen  as  men  of  "two- 
story  minds,"  and  suggests  that  herein  lies  the  secret  of 
their  power  and  charm.  The  foundation-story,  in  both 
cases,  is  built  of  material  quarried  from  the  historical  and 
legendary  past  of  Norway,  its  sagas,  its  folk-lore,  and  its 
mythology,  and  in  this  rich  treasure-house  of  imagery  and 
fundamental  motive  both  poets  found  the  poetical  inspi- 
ration of  their  earlier  work.  Then  the  ferment  of  modern 
thought  became  active  in  their  minds,  and  they  built  their 
superstructure  out  of  the  materials  —  political  or  social, 
intellectual  or  moral — provided  by  contemporary  life,  dis- 
cussing or  envisaging  the  problems  of  the  modern  world 
in  the  light  of  the  creative  imagination  that  had  come  to 
maturity  during  their  preoccupation  with  the  deep-rooted 
ideas  that  were  their  racial  inheritance.  Certainly,  the  out- 
standing fact  in  the  career  of  both  poets  is  the  transforma- 
tion in  form,  if  not  in  spirit,  that  came  over  their  work  at 
the  age  of  forty  or  thereabouts.  Ibsen  spoke  of  having  had 
many  a  lyrical  Pegasus  slain  beneath  him,  and  Bjornson 
proclaimed  that  the  best  poet  a  people  could  have  was  he 
who  flung  himself  into  the  thick  of  life,  and  came  most 
closely  in  touch  with  his  fellow-men. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  ask  how  the  two  poets  are 
differentiated,  it  seems  fair  to  say  that  Bjornson's  lower 
story  has  deeper  foundations, and  is  more  solidly  built,  than 
Ibsen's,  and  that  his  superstructure  does  not  exhibit  so 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

absolute  an  abandonment  of  the  material  previously  used. 
Ibsen's  earlier  recourse  to  saga  and  legend  was  rather  the 
expression  of  the  romantic  temperament  than  the  result 
of  a  racial  mandate,  and  the  figures  of  Catiline  and  Julian 
the  Apostate  served  his  purpose  quite  as  well  as  those 
of  the  warriors  of  Hålogaland.  The  latter  half  of  his  life 
found  him  a  romanticist  turned  realist,  and  that  is  all.  Now 
Bjornson  was  also  a  romanticist  turned  realist,  but  his  ro- 
m_anticism  was  of  the  type  which  only  a  Norseman  could 
exhibit,  and  the  realist  that  he  afterwards  became  never 
wholly  lost  those  racial  traits  that  made  him  throughout 
his  career  preeminently  the  voice  of  his  people,  and  made 
the  mention  of  his  name  equivalent  to  the  hoisting  of  the 
Norwegian  flag.  He  could  never  be  quite  the  cosmopolitan 
that  Ibsen  became,  because,  however  wide-spreading  his 
tree  in  its  foliage,  its  roots  were  firmly  planted  in  his  na- 
tive soil,  and  the  sap  of  its  outermost  ramifications  welled 
up  from  that  sustaining  source.  However  sophisticated  his 
work  became,  it  never  wholly  lost  the  elements  of  naivete 
and  raciness  that  marked  the  earlier  manifestations  of  his 
genius. 

This  work  of  Bjornson's  first  epoch  (185 7- 187 2)  com- 
prises the  peasant-tales,  long  and  short,  the  five  saga  and 
folk  dramas,  the  collection  of  Poems  and  Songs,  and  the  epic 
cycle  of  Arnljot  Gelline,  now  translated.  Arnljot  Gelline  and 
the  saga-trilogy  of  Sigurd  Slembe  constitute  Bjornson's  high- 
est achievement  in  his  reconstruction  of  the  heroic  past  of 
Norway.  The  two  works  are  closely  akin.  Each  of  them  has 
a  protagonist  whose  presentation  is  a  miracle  of  creative 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

power — a  figure  taken  from  the  saga-literature,  and  en- 
dowed with  a  warmth  and  richness  of  life  that  the  original 
barely  suggests,  a  life  which  the  poet  infused  with  his  own 
personality,  in  accordance  with  the  precept  which  long  ago 
said  to  the  literary  artist: 

Look  in  thy  heart  and  zvrite. 

So  Bjornson  raised  these  two  legendary  figures  into  the 
light  of  day,  looked  into  his  own  heart  for  inspiration,  and 
made  them  the  mouthpiece  of  all  that  was  deepest  in  him 
of  human  sympathy,  of  devotion  to  country,  and  of  reli- 
gious aspiration.  It  is  not  often  in  literature  that  one  can 
see  the  creative  process  so  clearly  at  work  as  when  one 
compares  the  scanty  and  episodical  materials  furnished  by 
the  Hei/nskringla  with  the  warm  and  vital  portraiture  of  the 
heroes  of  these  two  masterpieces. 

Of  Bjornson's  Jrnljot  Gelline^  H.  H.  Boyesen  says: 
"Never  has  he  found  a  more  daring  and  tremendous  ex- 
pression for  the  spirit  of  old  Norse  paganism  than  in  this 
powerful  but  somewhat  chaotic  poem.  Never  has  any  one 
gazed  more  deeply  into  the  ferocious  heart  of  the  primitive, 
predatory  man,  whose  free,  wild  soul  had  not  yet  been 
tamed  by  social  obligations  and  the  scourge  of  the  law." 
The  first  reference  Bjornson  makes  to  this  poem  in  his 
correspondence  is  dated  October  i6,  1859.  "I  have  been 
at  work  on  a  short  story  \^En  Glad  Gut'^ ,  but  have  laid  it 
aside  to  furnish  an  epic,  Arnljot  Gellina^  for  Nyhedshladets 
Nytaarshog"  But  the  short  story  was  published  a  full  ten 
years  before  the  completed  epic  saw  the  light.  A  week  later 


x  INTRODUCTION 

he  writes:  "At  present  I  am  at  work  upon  an  epic,  Arnljot 
Gellina.  I  have  a  clear  conception  of  the  subject.  I  think 
I  shall  be  successful  with  it;  it  is  more  than  half  finished; 
it  will  probably  be  published  here  in  2i  Nytaarskalendar"  In 
the  summer  of  i860  a  letter  says:  "I  am  enthusiastic  about 
Arnljot  Gelline.  It  is  undoubtedly  the  biggest  idea  I  have 
taken  up,  and  if  you  don't  say,  when  you  have  read  it  all, 
that  it  makes  a  fine  and  worthy  epic, the  fault  will  be  yours, 
as  usual."  The  work  seems  to  have  been  set  aside  for  some 
years,  although  two  of  the  fifteen  songs  of  the  cycle  were 
completed  and  published  in  the  Danish  periodical  Aften- 
læsning  in  i860— 61.  A  letter  of  1864  says  that  the  writer 
has  resumed  work  upon  Arnljot^  and  a  letter  of  1868  says 
that  it  will  follow  The  Fisher  Maiden  and  Sigurd  Jorsalfar. 
Later  in  this  year  Bjornson  writes  to  his  publisher:  "What 
if  we  got  it  out  at  Christmas?  It  is  my  loveliest  work." 
The  following  year  he  writes :  "  It  is  the  best  thing  I  have 
done.  I  am  now  working  on  the  last  song,  but  the  whole 
demands  much  more  work."  A  letter  of  April,  18 70,  di- 
rects the  publisher  to  "print  it  in  large  type.  It  moves 
weightily  and  must  be  read  slowly;"  and  a  month  later 
comes  the  following  note:  "Now  I  am  proud  of  it.  I  now 
have  a  clear  picture  of  it  as  a  whole,  which  I  did  not  have 
before." 

Arnljot  Gelline  was  published  at  the  close  of  1870,  and 
dedicated  to  the  Folk-High-Schools  of  the  North,  as  a  trib- 
ute to  Bishop  Grundtvig,  the  guiding  spirit  of  that  highly 
successful  educational  departure,  and  one  of  the  strongest 
influences  upon  Bjornson's  own  intellectual  development. 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

The  poem  had  occupied  him,  ofFand  on,  for  more  than  ten 
years,  the  Sturm  und  Drang  period  of  his  early  manhood. 
It  had  done  him  the  service  of  the  Aristotelian  katharsis. 
Of  this  we  read  in  Collin's  biography:  "It  was  indeed  for 
Bjornson  as  if  his  own  sufferings  were  lightened  by  com- 
parison with  those  of  Arnljot  Gelline  and  Sigurd  Slembe. 
He  could  yield  up  his  own  little  sorrow  to  these  two  step- 
children of  destiny,  and  let  it  be  remoulded  into  sympathy 
— just  as  Shaicspere  had  transferred  his  disappointment 
and  pain  in  a  time  that  was  out  of  joint  to  Hamlet  and 
Troilus,  to  Timon  and  Lear,  and  thereby  freed  his  mind 
from  brooding  upon  his  own  fortunes.  Or  as  the  old  blind 
Milton,  who  after  the  overthrow  of  the  Puritans  was  like 
blind  Samson,  a  captive  among  the  Philistines,  could  yield 
up  his  grief  to  the  Old  Testament  hero,  and  through  com- 
passion with  his  suffering,  endowing  him  with  the  poet's 
eloquence,  was  able  to  rise  out  of  his  own  despondency. 
Thus  it  was  that  Bjornson,  in  the  course  of  the  tempestuous 
winter  of  1 859— 60, began  to  shape  Arnljot  Gelline's  figure, 
making  it  a  conduit  for  all  his  thoughts  of  the  wrong  of 
which  he  was  himself  the  victim.  What  an  emancipation  for 
a  poet  to  free  himself  from  self-compassion,  and  bestow 
it  upon  one  far  more  sorely  afflicted  by  adverse  fate,  endow- 
ing him  with  all  his  own  vigor  of  soul,  all  his  own  poetic 
eloquence,  erecting  in  him  a  monument  upon  the  ruins  of 
a  sorrow  that  the  poet  had  himself  experienced!" 

The  long-promised  poem  achieved  a  notable  success, 
although  it  met  with  much  adverse  criticism,  especially  in 
Denmark,  where  it  was  issued  by  the  house  of  Gylden- 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

dal.  What  Bjornson  thought  of  this  criticism  may  be  seen 
from  a  letter  to  his  publisher,  Gyldendal,  in  which  he  says : 
"It  seems  a  shame  to  me  that,  with  the  exception  of  Dr. 
Rosenberg,  one  of  the  few  Norse  souls  in  Copenhagen, 
there  have  come  to  my  ears  from  Denmark  only  the  most 
perverse  judgments  of  y/r«^'o/  Gi?///«^.  They  deal  eitherwith 
the  orthography  or  the  rhythms,  or  concern  themselves 
with  what  is  merely  trivial."  In  the  matters  of  orthography 
and  vocabulary,  the  poem  exhibited  many  innovations, 
although  it  by  no  means  went  to  the  lengths  advocated  by 
the  maahtrtsver^  or  champions  of  a  distinctively  national 
form  of  speech.  It  was  written,  as  most  Norwegian  works 
were  and  still  are,  in  the  literary  language  of  Denmark, 
but  the  controversy  over  the  use  of  Norwegian  dialect- 
forms  waxed  very  fierce  about  1870,  and  orthodox  philolo- 
gists were  zealous  in  their  defence  of  the  accepted  stand- 
ards. The  poem  offers  a  great  variety  of  rhythms,  each 
of  the  fifteen  Songs  having  its  own  characteristic  form  of 
verse.  Only  three  of  them — the  first,  the  fourth,  and  the 
seventh — are  rhymed  throughout,  although  OlaPs  final 
exhortation  to  his  followers  on  the  morning  of  the  day  of 
Stiklestad,  in  the  twelfth  Song,  is  also  rhymed.  The  rest  of 
the  poem  is  in  what  it  is  now  the  fashion  to  call  vers  libre^ 
irregular  and  rugged,  the  lines  having  stresses  varying  from 
one  to  five.  The  general  movement  of  the  verse  is  trochaic, 
with  the  latitude  and  flexibility  offered  by  a  liberal  use  of 
dactyls.  Alliteration  is  frequently  employed,  but  not  sys- 
tematically. Careful  observation  will  disclose  the  fact  that 
the  rhythms,  however  lawless  they  may  seem  at  times. 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

give  us  forms  that  are  rigorously  subordinated  to  definite 
conceptions,  fitted,  as  only  a  true  poet  can  fit  them,  to 
the  dramatic  and  emotional  requirements  of  the  respective 
Songs. 

The  present  translation  has  sought  to  reproduce  as 
closely  as  may  be  the  rhymes  and  the  rhythms  of  the  origi- 
nal. It  is  as  nearly  as  possible  a  line-for-line  translation, 
and  its  stresses  are,  in  number  and  position,  those  of  the 
text,  in  all  but  a  small  minority  of  cases.  Occasionally  it 
has  been  found  necessary  toend  a  line  with  a  single  stressed 
syllable,  where  the  original  has  a  feminine  ending.  This 
has  been  done  reluctantly,  and  only  when  it  has  seemed 
unavoidable  except  at  too  great  a  sacrifice  of  the  meaning. 
The  exigencies  of  rhyme  have  made  the  translation  of  the 
sections  in  which  it  occurs  somewhat  less  literal  than  the 
translator  could  have  wished,  but  he  trusts  that  he  has 
nowhere  departed  from  the  spirit  of  the  original  text.  If 
obvious  colloquialisms  sometimes  occur,  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  Bjornson  used  them  also,  a  fact  of  which  the 
rhetorical  purists  among  his  critics  did  not  fail  to  remind 
him.  One  of  the  marked  characteristics  of  the  poem  is 
its  free  juxtaposition  of  prosaic  words  and  phrases  with  the 
loftiest  forms  of  poetical  expression. 

The  Notes  which  have  been  provided  at  the  close  of  this 
volume  are  not  numerous,  but  they  fill  many  pages  because 
of  the  lengthy  citations  from  the  sagas  which  are  needed 
for  a  comparison  of  Bjornson's  work  with  its  sources.  It 
seems  desirable  to  make  very  clear  the  distinction  between 
what  was  supplied  by  the  poet's  creative  imagination  and 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

what  he  took  from  the  historical  record.  With  this  object  in 
view,  practically  everything  in  the  sagas  that  he  made  use 
of  is  here  reprinted  —  many  chapters  of  the  Saga  of  Olaf 
the  Holy  in  the  Heimskringla  of  Snorri  Sturluson,  and  the 
two  chapters  of  the  Great  Olaf  Trygvason  Saga,  drawn 
upon  for  the  sixth  Song.  The  translator  has  had  before  him 
the  original  edition  of  1870  as  well  as  later  reprints  of  the 
poem.  These  reprints  embody  no  changes  of  any  conse- 
quence,except  in  the  orthography.  Much  use  has  been  made 
of  J.  Morland's  commentary  (Ow  Bjornstjerne  Bjbrnsori's 
'•^■Jrnljot  Gelline")  in  the  preparation  of  the  Notes.  The 
translator  is  also  indebted  to  Miss  Hanna  Astrup  Larsen 
for  many  helpful  suggestions  concerning  the  text. 

WILLIAM   MORTON   PAYNE 


Chicago,  February,  191 7 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

BY 

BJORNSTJERNE  BJØRNSON 


FIRST  SONG 

THE  SKI-JOURNEY 

HOW  they  go  hurrying, 
How  they  go  scurrying! 
Three  men  on  a  single  pair  of  ski; 
Rushing  past  village,  and  mountain,  and  tree. 
Stormy  skies  and  clear. 
And  the  Yule-tide  near. 
See  the  vale  below  them,  dotted  with  its  lights ! 

How  they  go  hurrying. 

How  they  go  scurrying ! 
lamtlanders  follow,  a  drunken  rout. 
Unleashing  their  bloodhounds,  to  scent  them  out, 

As  the  bright  moonlight 

Floods  the  wintry  night  — 
Black  lie  the  shadows  cast  by  the  forest. 

How  they  go  hurrying. 

How  they  go  scurrying! 
Doomed  to  the  altar,  a  messenger  pair. 
Cared  for  and  fattened,  now  free  do  they  fare. 

Christian  men  twain, 

Catch  them  again  \ 
Hungrily  howl  the  ancient  wolves  of  Odin. 

How  they  go  hurrying. 
How  they  go  scurrying! 


4  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

On  the  ski  they  stand  but  at  shoulder-height 
Of  their  rescuer's  frame,  as,  wild  with  fright, 

They  fare  forspent. 

While  on  safety  bent. 
Strikes  he  still  onward,  as  were  he  alone. 

How  they  go  hurrying. 

How  they  go  scurrying! 
Through  the  deep-drifted  snow  in  their  headlong  flight, 
Lost  to  men's  view  as  they  flee  through  the  night. 

Past  wild  beast  and  troll. 

Now  they  speed  toward  their  goal — 
Halt !  Yonder  a  hovel  half-hid  in  the  forest. 

How  they  went  hurrying. 

How  they  went  scurrying! 
In  they  crept,  kindled  fire  'gainst  the  winter's  rigor. 
Food  he  set  forth,  and  restored  them  to  vigor. 

Then  landed  with  a  leap 

On  the  loft  for  sleep. 
Heaving  men  and  weapons  up  before  him. 

How  they  went  hurrying. 

How  they  went  scurrying! 
Then  came  the  lamtlanders'  footsore  pack, 
Leaping  and  yelping,  the  hounds  in  their  track. 

The  bones  found  and  pawed, 

Nosed  them  and  gnawed; 
Men  and  dogs  soon  were  all  snoring  in  sleep. 


THE  SKI-JOURNEY 

How  they  went  hurrying, 

How  they  went  scurrying! 
In  came  a  troll-wife,  her  hunger  to  sate, 
Killed  she  the  dogs,  roasted  them  and  ate. 

One  by  one  the  men 

Cast  in  the  fire,  and  then 
Greedily  devoured,  still  smelling  for  more. 

How  they  went  hurrying. 

How  they  went  scurrying! 
From  the  loft  a  man  doth  a  spear-shaft  launch 
In  through  her  back  and  out  through  her  paunch; 

Shrieking  and  quaking. 

The  spear-shaft  shaking, 
Bellowing  the  troll  rushed  out  into  the  forest. 

How  they  go  hurrymg. 

How  they  go  scurrying! 
Three  men  on  a  single  pair  of  ski. 
Rushing  past  village,  and  mountain,  and  tree, 

Stormy  skies  and  clear. 

And  the  Yule-tide  near, 
Norway  lies  below  them  dotted  with  its  lights. 

How  they  go  hurrying. 
How  they  go  scurrying! 
"Here  is  your  country,  you  now  are  secure; 
Greet  King  Olaf,  for  him  't  is  sure 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

That  above  all  men 
Would  I  choose  for  friend, 
To  him  with  my  greetings  give  this  silver  dish." 

How  they  go  hurrying, 

How  they  go  scurrying! 
Under  his  gold  helm  streams  his  hair, 
In  the  fanning  wind,  as  away  he  doth  fare. 

And  his  warrior-height 

Towers  in  sight 
Above  the  birches  on  the  grassy  mountain-slope. 


SECOND  SONG 

AT  THE  WINTER-THING 

Year  upon  year  apace  had  sped 
Since  that  ski-journey  up  north; 
The  fugitives  were  forgotten, 
And  the  pursuing  pack. 
Other  things  weighed  on  men's  minds: 
Dearth  and  the  lifting  of  cattle, 
Depression  wherever  twain  met, 
At  every  fireside  silence. 

The  old  trees  shook  in  the  storm. 
Winter  ruled  o'er  the  plain. 
The  peasants'  corn  in  the  fields 
Was  beaten  down  by  the  frost. 
Laden  with  snow  was  the  spruce. 
But  the  birch  shook  the  burden  off. 
Bent  was  the  underbrush. 
And  frozen  stiff  with  the  cold. 
Sated  was  winter,  and  barkened 
For  signs  of  the  storms  to  come, 
Should  they  bring  with  them  rain. 
Or  a  message  warm  from  the  south. 
Over  the  gasping  village 
The  frost-king  heavily  brooded, 
Crept  to  the  bonder's  dwelling. 
Staring  sleepily  in. 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Over  the  gloomy  foothills 
The  dark  clouds  heavily  lowered, 
Hung  together  and  whispered 
Their  eternal  message  of  terror. 

Up  from  the  west  they  came  rolling 
Over  the  forests  of  lamtland; 
White  behind  them  lay  Norway 
Gleaming  with  snow-clad  peaks. 

'T  was  there  that  Olaf  the  Holy 
The  cross  to  the  light  uplifted; 
Thor  dropped  his  hammer,  and  Odin 
Tottered  and  fell  in  the  night. 

Rumors  were  rife.  In  lamtland 
Often  they  found  their  way 
To  the  hearing  of  gentle  maidens 
And  of  deep-thinking  men; 
Filling  their  dreams  with  omens. 
Warning  them  in  the  daytime. 
Glimmering  like  snow  in  sunlight 
Before  their  uncertain  gaze. 

In  the  lamtlanders'  low-lying  settlement, 
There  lay  on  the  edge  of  the  forest 
The  house  of  the  heathen  priest, 
Snug  and  warm  for  the  wanderer. 
Trand  was  his  name,  one  daughter 


AT  THE  WINTER-THING 

Alone  he  possessed,  but  no  son, 

Nor  was  he  deeply  regretful 

When  blithe  she  passed  on  his  way. 

Old  sat  Trand  on  the  settle. 

Drinking  far  into  the  night, 

Talking  with  trustworthy  boon  companions 

Of  the  deeds  of  their  youth. 

Also  he  talked  with  travellers, 

Homeward  faring  from  westward, 

Asked  about  Olaf  Digre, 

And  of  his  mighty  deeds. 

Heard  how  he  cast  down  temples. 

And  smashed  their  idols  to  fragments. 

How  worms  crawled  out  of  the  rotten  wood. 

Adders,  and  mice,  and  the  like.  .  .  . 

The  thrall  stood  pale  at  the  doorway. 

Dared  not  the  horn  replenish. 

Terrified  picturing  Odin,  who 

Noseless  sat  there  and  slept. 

Drunkenly  Trand  thumped  the  table: 
"Lies  are  these  tales  and  witchcraft-work! 

Tallow-face,  fetch  us  the  liquor, 

Here  it  grows  fearfully  cold." 

Further  questions  he  asked. 

Pondering  o'er  the  replies. 

Pounded  the  table  and  swore: 
"Loki  has  broken  his  bonds!" 

Then  when  the  drink  overcame  him. 

And  down  on  the  settle  he  dropped. 


lo  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Saw  he  the  vision  of  Olaf  Digre 
Majestic  in  Odin's  seat, 
Vowed  't  was  a  wile  of  the  Jotuns, 
Sought  to  strike  out  with  his  fist. 
Failed  him  the  effort,  then  sank  he 
Down  in  a  drunken  sleep. 

Midwinter  at  hand,  and  the  cattle 
Bellowed  and  lowed  in  their  stalls, 
Knowing  the  sledge  sacrificial 
Stood  all  ready  to  smite. 
The  horses  whinnied,  at  halters  strained. 
Turned  away  from  their  fodder. 
Bloodthirsty  Odin  they  scented. 
And  his  croaking  attendant  ravens. 
The  folk  all  gathered  together, 
More  than  the  place  could  lodge, 
Filled  all  the  houses  and  barns. 
And  the  booths  that  were  built  to  bestow  them. 
.  By  day  there  were  altar-offerings, 
And  drinking  deep  in  the  night. 
Lawman  Tore  had  come. 
Three  days  had  the  Thing  held  session. 
Truce  was  proclaimed,  grievances  aired, 
The  law  was  laid  down,  and  the  tribute 
Prepared  for  the  Swedish  king. 
To  whom  was  pledged  their  support. 
The  twilight  of  eve  was  at  hand. 
When  Lawman  Tore  arose. 


AT  THE  WINTER-THING 

Demanded  aloud  of  the  circle 
If  there  were  further  complaints. 
Jumping  up  in  a  moment 
Many  there  were  who  shouted: 
*'  Highwaymen  and  hungry  robbers 
Steal  both  our  goods  and  cattle. 
The  worst  is  Arnljot  Gelline, 
And  the  man  called  Gauta-Tore. 
Ne'er  can  the  lamtlanders  live  in  peace, 
While  those  twain  are  alive." 

A  man  then  rose  up  among  them, 
So  tall  that  they  all  shrank  backward. 
No  one  reached  to  his  shoulder. 
Flung  he  aside  his  cowl, 
Golden  his  helmet,  his  cloak 
Blazed  with  a  brilliant  scarlet, 
A  mighty  sword  at  his  side, 
A  spear-shaft  clenched  in  his  hand. 
The  moon  broke  forth  in  the  heavens, 
Raising  its  yellow  lantern. 
Lighted  his  face  for  a  moment. 
Revealing  it  clear,  and  went  out. 
Wild  cried  the  folk,  drew  their  swords: 
"Arnljot  Gelline,  ay,  it  is  he! 
Varg  i  veum^  what  wilt  thou  here? 
Dost  yearn  for  the  sight  of  Hel  ? " 
Swords  were  singing  and  shields  were  ringing. 
Surged  the  folk  like  a  mountain-torrent; 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Steadfast  stood  Gelline, 
Shouted  above  the  crowd: 
"Many  the  mail-clad  men 
Who  have  followed  me  here  to  the  lamt- 

landers'  Thing; 
Good  folk,  I  would  quietly  speak; 
Later  the  time  for  blows." 
Swung  he  the  spear  and  smiled 
Proud  as  a  god  in  the  grove, 
The  bonders  shrank  back,  but  muttered 
Heavily  words  of  defiance. 
Breaking  was  unloosed  upon  them 
The  tempest  that  heralds  the  strife, — 
Then  arose  Lawman  Tore, 
Rapping  for  silence  and  heed. 

Old  he  stood  there  and  mighty, 
Looked  at  the  lamtlanders  all  around. 
As  were  he  regretfully  seeking 
Faces  of  olden  times. 
Or  as  heard  he  stirring  to  meet  him 
The  tremulous  stream  of  irresolute  thoughts 
Groping  for  strength  and  courage. 
Despondent  and  dim  was  his  gaze; 
Slowly  he  bowed  his  head.  Then  fell 
Sorrowful  words  from  his  lips. 
Hopeless  as  autumn  rains. 
"Rife  in  these  latter  days  are  rumors 
Of  how  it  is  that  in  Norway 


AT  THE  WINTER-THING  13 

Olaf,  of  men  known  as  Digre, 

Fashions  with  new-shaped  law. 

And  it  must  be  admitted 

Ours  is  wasting  away. 

Here  where  outlawry  is  banned 

Stands  a  man  of  shameful  misdeeds. 

Odin  now  has  grown  old. 

Is  sorely  afflicted  with  coughing. 

Else  had  he  spoken  to-day 

In  words  that  had  put  you  to  shame. 

But  if  his  law  shall  be  silenced 

Here  in  the  lamtlanders'  Thing, 

Then  also  must  Tore  be  silent. 

All  of  whose  life  was  law. 

Speak  then,  thou  Arnljot  Gelline, 

Whom  the  lamtlanders  rather  would  list. 

Herewith  is  the  Thing-session  over. 

Lawman  ye  have  no  more." 

Down  he  stepped,  with  trembling  hand 
Grasping  the  ancient  law-book. 
Withholding  a  farewell  gesture, 
Turned  he  about  and  went. 

As  a  cloud,  gray-woven,  storm-laden, 
Hangs  o'er  the  boughs  of  the  forest. 
Weighed  Lawman  Tore's  words 
Heavily  on  his  hearers'  mood. 
Bent  stood  the  men,  and  silent. 


14  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Wrapped  in  shame  and  remorse. 
Each  man  his  past  life  scanned, 
Mindful  of  words  of  the  fathers. 
Memories  awakened  and  gleamed, 
Striking  their  way  through  the  gloom, 
Swords  leaped  forth,  and  forward 
The  crowd  again  pressed  its  way. 
With  pale  face  Arnljot  Gelline, 
Calmly  facing  his  hearers. 
Rapping  for  silence,  addressed  them: 
"Let  me  have  speech  first  of  all!" 
Then  at  his  right  hand's  gesture. 
The  men  who  by  him  stood  nearest 
Cast  off  their  cloaks,  revealing 
Armor  and  gleaming  swords. 
As  when  at  night  through  the  window 
Unexpected  the  lightning  flashes. 
Upon  the  throng  fell  a  silence. 
His  every  word  was  clear. 

*' Robber  you  called  me  when  hither  I  came. ... 
But  you  forget,  lamtlanders, 
That  first  you  robbed  me  of  all 
That  made  life  precious  to  me. 
Highwayman  also  you  called  me. 
But  you  forget,  lamtlanders. 
That  you  in  treacherous  highwayman  fashion 
Burned  down  my  father's  farmstead. 
Murderer  also  you  called  me. 


AT  THE  WINTER-THING  15 

But  you  forget,  lamtlanders, 
That  my  old  father  you  slew 
While  in  his  sleep  he  lay. 

"My  father  fared  hither  from  far-off  shores, 
Unloaded  his  ships  and  bought  a  farm. 
Quietly  lived  in  the  village. 
Unknown  and  making  no  friends. 
He  broke  his  acres  and  sowed  them. 
Cattle  he  brought  to  the  market. 
Cleared  new  soil  in  the  forest. 
Gaining  both  goods  and  gold. 
In  the  village  envy  enkindled 
Seared  his  fair  name  and  report. 
Maligned  him  for  witchcraft  and  cattle-lifting. 
Harried  his  kindly  nature. 
When  on  that  stormy  winter  night 
The  ring  disappeared  from  Odin's  hand, 
Him  't  was  you  named,  demanding 
For  Odin  speedy  revenge. 
Straight  from  the  temple-gateway 
You  swept  like  fire  through  the  forest. 
On  to  his  high-timbered  house. 
Burned  him  within  it,  and  laughed, 

*'  Hear  from  me  now,  all  ye  lamtland  men. 
Of  the  things  that  happened  that  night: 
Vikar  of  Tiundaland,  my  brother. 
Dragged  me  out  in  the  cold. 


1 6  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Bare-legged  we  trudged  through  the  snow. 

But  when  we  came  to  Torsvold, 

Saw  we  the  fire  upleaping, 

Heard  we  the  shrieks  of  anguish. 

The  women  fled,  and  the  cattle 

Madly  rushed  into  the  flames. 

Brightly  the  corn  was  burning. 

The  barnyard-fowl  flapped  their  wings. 

To  the  glee  of  trolls  fell  the  roof-tree. 

High  laughed  the  flames  to  the  heavens. 

My  father  lay  there  beneath  them. 

Breathing  a  prayer  for  revenge. 

Vikar  was  fourteen  winters 

Old,  and  eight  I  had  seen. 

But  when  from  Torsvold  we  departed 

Full-grown  men  were  we  both. 

"Of  the  forty  we  saw  there  reddened 
In  the  light  of  the  funeral  pyre. 
Pale  now  have  waxed  nine  and  thirty, 
Ne'er  will  they  redden  again. 
But  the  last  of  them  here  now  is  sitting. 
Respected,  and  living  in  comfort; 
To  him  once  more  will  I  speak, 
Ere  I  depart  this  night. — 

"  Hear,  lamtlanders :  ye  took  my  father, 
Drove  me  out  in  the  snow. 
Quenched  all  the  joy  in  my  life, 


AT  THE  WINTERS-THING  17 

Vengeance  bequeathed  in  its  stead. 
Of  fosterland  also  you  robbed  me, 
Stranger  I  roam  through  the  world, 
Holding  all  men  as  my  foemen, 
Since  the  day  of  my  brother's  death. 

"For  you  took  too  my  only  brother. 
Vikar  of  Tiundaland;  he  fared 
To  join  him  with  Olaf  Trygvason, 
Sued  for  baptism  and  cleansing. 
Darkened  was  life  grown  for  him; 
First  on  the  red  day  of  Svolder 
Smiled  he  for  once  in  his  life. 
Sent  homeward  his  greetings,  and  fell. 

"Like  a  long-haired,  sore-smitten  wolf 
Drag  I  about  my  heavy  loss. 
And  from  my  gaping  wounds 
Blood-stained  is  all  my  track. 
Which  of  us  stands  in  the  other's  debt? 
Which  can  demand  an  accounting? 
lamtlanders  all,  to  me  is  your  debt 
Far  more  than  a  life  is  worth. 

"At  times  when  alone  I  am  sitting 
In  the  deep  forests  yonder. 
Gazing  at  even  out  over 
All  of  your  dwellings  fair — 
The  gleaming  lights  from  your  windows. 


1 8  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Flooding  the  night  with  peace, 
Speak  of  the  dawn  of  the  morrow 
For  the  day-wearied  man  — 
Then  over  my  spirit  low-flying 
Sweep  the  downy  birds  of  longing, 
Keen  in  pursuit  of  the  spring; 
Failing  to  find  it,  they  die. 
Then  feel  I  no  longer  hatred. 
Although  to  death  I  was  wounded, 
Silently  shines  the  starlight 
Down  on  my  strenuous  life. 
Vikar  then  in  my  mind's  eye  rises. 
Just  as  he  stood  there  of  yore; 
Into  his  great  blue  eyes 
Once  more  I  sit  and  gaze. 

"Sitting  there  into  hers  I  gaze 
Whom  once  on  the  ice  I  rescued, 
Blue  were  they  also,  like  Vikar's, 
Therefore  they  draw  me  in  thought. 
And  in  such  hours  I  may  say. 
Peace  is  well  worth  the  winning; 
All  of  my  hopes  and  longings  now 
Will  I  stake  on  a  single  throw. 

"lamtlanders  all,  now  hear  me  well. 
Since  I  have  come  to  you  hither:  — 
Are  you  as  weary  as  Arnljot  Gelline 
Of  all  this  treacherous  warfare; 


AT  THE  WINTER-THING  19 

Is  your  mood  heavy  as  his? 

Since  the  day  you  bereft  him 

Of  country  and  law  and  birthright. 

Of  your  own  have  you  felt  secure? 

Well,  then  grant  him  his  one  demand: 

Ingigerd,  Trand's  daughter,  and  her  goods, 

Also  the  right  to  law  and  country, — 

And  here  shall  be  peace  again. 

Trand,  you  were  there  on  that  bloody  night, 

'T  is  yours  to  atone  —  now  answer! 

'T  is  Ingigerd's  long  and  yellow  hair 

That  has  stayed  my  hand  till  to-day." 

Silence  held  sway  all  around  him, 
Kindled  were  lights,  and  illumined 
Questioning  faces  and  lowered  swords; 
Round  about  was  the  night. 

Arnljot  waited,  but  ne'er  a  word 
Pierced  through  the  silence;  he  watched.  .  .  . 
Thoughts  rising  and  falling  in  billows 
Swept  o'er  the  mind  of  the  folk. 
Slowly  over  that  sea  of  thought 
Dawned  the  blue-gray  of  the  future — 
Either  the  day  of  appeasement. 
Or  a  flashing  of  northern  lights; 
Either  she  of  the  yellow  hair 
And  the  languishing  deep  blue  eyes. 
Or  the  bearded  wild  men  of  the  forest, 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Camped  by  their  fires  at  night-, 
Either  the  iron-sheathed  plough 
Marking  with  furrows  the  soil, 
Or  the  drawing  of  swords, 
To  bite  the  bodies  of  men; 
Either  beneath  the  low  roof-tree 
The  altar-fires  of  love. 
Or  the  sable  ravens  of  vengeance 
Hoarsely  croaking  around  his  helm; 
Either  dream-blessed  sleep  every  night 
After  a  day  without  care, 
Or  wrath  in  its  pitiless  rage 
Ravaging  his  foeman's  land. 

Then  one  among  them  whispered,"  Trand  "  ■ 
As  the  wind  rustles  the  branches 
Shaking  off  rain-drops,  all  muttered: 
"Trand,  where  is  Trand?  Ay,  Trand!" 

This  so  sudden  and  passionate  call 
Craved  but  one  boon  from  his  speech: 
He  should  yield  up  his  daughter 
In  pledge  for  their  goods  and  cattle. 
The  ancient  farmstead  of  his  forbears, 
All  his  inheritance  with  it. 
Should  with  Ingigerd's  snow-white  hand 
On  the  highwayman  now  be  bestowed. 
Hardly  a  home  in  the  village 
Bore  not  the  mark  of  Arnljot's  sword, 


AT  THE  WINTER-THING 

Ruddier  yet  than  his  scarlet  cloak 
Ran  the  blood  from  his  name. 
Stood  he  there  with  soft-spoken  words, 
But  the  rank  of  his  bloodthirsty  crew 
Closed  like  a  ring  of  fire 
Round  about  the  proffered  peace. 
Now  should  the  old  man  his  daughter 
Lay  in  this  sinister  ring — 
Like  a  sacrificial  ofl'ering 
Doomed  to  the  glowing  pyre  ? 
Straight  she  had  grown  on  the  farmstead, 
Ripened  like  corn  in  the  sunshine. 
Blithely  welcomed  its  kindly  light 
Through  the  window  stealing  each  morning; 
Like  a  fanciful  legend  she  crept 
Into  his  serious  musings. 
Bringing  both  tears  and  laughter 
Into  his  strenuous  mood, 
"  Trand ! "  rose  the  cry,  "  what  sayest  thou,  Trand  ? " 
Dull  the  swords  fell,  and  the  shields 
Rang,  while,  intent  on  the  barter. 
Pressed  they  all  of  them  forward. 
Trand  stood  pale  in  the  torchlight.  .  .  . 
She  who  bore  all  the  hope  of  his  race 
Hid  in  her  blushing  thought, 
She  should  be  offered  up? 
She  who  stood  for  the  only  hope 
At  eventide  left  to  his  life. 
Should  now  like  a  new-kindled  light  be  quenched 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

ln  a  draught  from  an  open  door? 

She  who  laughed  where  her  mother  hved, 

Recalling  the  days  of  his  youth, 

She  should  be  doomed  to  wither  away, 

Torn  from  her  soil  by  the  root?  — 

Rose  to  an  uproar  the  shouts  and  blows. 
Reechoed  from  every  side, 
On  the  stone  he  must  mount. 
However  might  fail  him  speech. 
Terror-stricken,  with  downcast  eyes. 
He  gazed  as  upon  a  dove-cote, 
f'or  there  stood  the  daughter  before  the  temple, 
With  a  flock  of  women  around  her! 
Thralls  stood  about,  with  torches  uplifted; 
Hushed  were  all  at  the  sight: 
Thereupon  in  Trand's  bosom 
The  blood  rose  surging  and  boiling. 
With  flashing  eye,  and  quivering  lip. 
Cheeks  red  at  the  shameful  thought, 
Down  he  sprang,  cleft  a  path  through  the  ring. 
With  youthful  vigor  renewed, 
Straight  to  his  daughter  he  forced  his  way. 
Raised  her  up  on  his  shoulder: 
«Lift  high  your  torches,  thralls. 
That  they  all  may  behold  her! 
Deem  ye,  lamtlanders,  that  such  a  child 
May  be  traded  for  goods  and  cattle? 
Deem'st  thou  her,  Arnljot  Gelline, 


AT  THE  WINTER-THING  23 

Fit  for  a  highwayman's  bride?" 
But  over  her  father's  shoulder 
Ingigerd  darted  a  gentle  smile, 
Fair  as  the  blush  of  the  dawning 
On  the  ash-gray  peak  of  the  mountain. 
Her  hands  she  clasped  round  his  head, 
In  his  belt  she  planted  her  feet, 
Never  a  strong  man's  shoulder 
A  nobler  burden  bore! 

How  then  were  shamed  the  lamtlanders. 
Exultantly  bearding  Gelline: 
"Every  man  of  us  here  will  defend  her, 
Take  her  from  us,  if  you  can!" 


THIRD  SONG 
THE  CAPTURE  OF  INGIGERD 

r  OURTEEN  nights  later  Trand  and  his  farmstead 

Went  up  in  flames; 
The  night  was  calm  and  the  buildings  were  ancient, 

All  was  soon  done. 
Only  the  women-folk  and  the  farmstead  cattle 

Were  saved  from  the  fire. 
The  men  who  sought  to  flee  through  the  smoke 

Fell  in  their  tracks. 

The  threat  at  the  Thing 

Fulfilment  delayed  not. 

Before  the  settlement  folk  could  assemble, 

All  was  over. 
From  the  flames  out  into  the  forest 

Bore  they  the  booty, 
Carried  the  corn  and  drove  the  cattle, 

Clearing  their  way; 
Forward  forged  Arnljot,  Ingigerd  resting 

Light  in  his  arms.  .  .  . 

But  her  tear-drops 

On  his  face  were  falling. 

While  all  around  was  tumult  and  laughter. 
Softly  he  whispered: 
"Lately,  indeed,  O  fair-haired  maiden. 
Wooed  I  in  vain; 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  INGIGERD  25 

Now  art  thou  borne  from  the  wedding-banquet, 

Circled  with  fire; 
The  betrothal  ale  is  spilled  in  the  snow, 

Mingled  with  blood. 

Vengeful  is  Arnljot, 

Fiery  his  love. 

•Now  is  the  goal  of  all  my  desires, 

Now  can  we  turn 
Trusting  to  Olaf^  avowing  our  fealty, 

Now  can  we  fare 
To  whatever  spot  thou  would'st  raise  thy  roof-tree, 

Tear-melting  bride ! 
Ours  is  the  world,  thy  morning-gift 

Whate'er  thou  desirest. 

Thou  hast  but  to  name  it, 

Straightway  'tis  thine." 

Naught  then  she  named,  nothing  she  answered, 

Downcast  her  gaze.  .  .  . 
Then  he  embraced  her  more  closely,  and  whispered: 

"If  'tis  thy  will. 
Now  shall  we  fly  from  the  world  and  all  others. 

Building  our  home 
Afar  from  the  crowd  and  alone  like  the  eagle. 

Perchance  by  the  sea, 

Embracing,  and  learning 

The  secret  of  joy." 


26  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Her  head  she  lifted  up  then,  and  proudly 

Rose  she  erect; 
The  northern  lights  played  o'er  the  starry  arch, 

Icily  cold 
Was  the  air  of  the  night;  seeking  the  distance 

Pale  was  her  gaze. — 
"Speak, thou  proud  beauty, yon  night  on  the  ice-pack 

Wert  thou  not  silent; 

Those  tear-smitten  eyes 

With  meaning  were  rich." 

Angrily  raised  she  her  head;  her  bosom 
Heaved  like  the  sea; 

Higher  and  higher  the  billows  of  passion 
Surged,  as  she  whispered : 
"No  man  as  thee  I  loved  aforetime; 
Thou  truly  hast  seen. 

None  henceforth  shall  I  hate  more  deeply, 
More  fiercely  than  thee."  — 
And  the  source  of  her  tears 
On  the  instant  was  dried. 

Smiled  then  Arnljot,  in  words  replying 

Low-spoken  like  hers  : 
"  Mournest  thou  sore  for  thy  fallen  father. 

Mourn  I  as  well. 
Each  of  us  now  has  won  what  he  willed. 

Won  his  revenge; 
Our  union  this  night  shall  be  as  atonement 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  INGIGERD  27 

For  the  death  of  our  fathers, 
The  courses  of  wrath 
Joining  together." 

*' Never  the  day  that  shall  find  me  forgetful 

Of  what  thou  hast  done. 
Ne'er  to  thee  wife  will  I  be  or  lemanj 

Dare  what  thou  may'st!" 
"Fair  is  woman  when  thus  she  rages; 

The  impotent  storm 
Quickens  my  breast,  and  acts  as  a  soothing 

Salve  to  my  soul. 

Speak  thou  till  wearied. 

So  thou  dost  clasp  me!" 

"Impotent  none  who  for  fear  doth  not  cower, 

My  cause  has  allies: 
Break,  if  thou  canst,  my  will;  I  summon 

Death  to  my  aid." 
"Die  shalt  thou  not  in  thy  fairest  springtime. 

Within  thy  grasp 
Many  the  youthful  years  and  fruitful 

Yet  thou  shalt  know. 

Death  claims  life's  autumn. 

Spring  now  is  calling." 

"Thinkest  thou  women  like  cattle  are  lifted? 
Deluded  man. 
The  will  that  faithfully  shall  warm  thee 


28  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Ne'er  canst  thou  force." 
"Ay,  I  will  seize  what  thou  withholdestj 
firm  is  my  faith 
That  naught  that  is  living  will  not  bow  down  to 
Arnljot's  will. 
Power  can  threaten, 
Power  can  charm." 

"Nay,  one  thing  is  living,  its  name  is  hatred; 

Ne'er  hast  thou  heard: 
Power  is  mighty,  love  is  mightier. 

Mightiest  hate." 
"Never  has  hate  availed  to  stay  me. 

Rather  it  has 
Roused  my  courage  and  spurred  my  anger. 

Turned  it  to  scorn. 

Hardens  the  hated 

Warrior  to  chieftain." 

"Wilt  thou  descendants  on  hatred  nurtured? 

Wilt  thou  have  seed 
Vowed  by  their  mother  to  purpose  vengeful 

For  all  she  has  borne?" 
"Threats  are  ugly;  but  strong  my  race-stock; 

Ne'er  will  avail  thee 
Efforts  to  make  my  offspring  curse  me: 

Men  beget  men. 

When  they  my  deeds  see, 

Love  me  they  must!" 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  INGIGERD  29 

Neared  was  the  forest,  the  mighty  tree-trunks 

Greeting  bestowed; 
Roofing  them  over,  shadows  about  them. 

Murmuring  peace. 
Here  embraced  he  the  fair  one  closely, 

Clasped  to  his  breast ! 
Tore  she  away  from  him,  breaking  out  in 

Bitterest  tears, 

Hands  appealing 

She  lifted  to  heaven. 

"Power  hast  thou  to  work  thy  will. 

But  all  thou  gainest 
Is  like  my  father  to  strike  me  down. 

Only  my  loss, 
Little  by  little,  and  tear  upon  tear. 

Only  my  grief. 
Silently  melting  my  life  like  snow. 

Sigh  upon  sigh. 

Until  the  last  of  them 

In  the  sand  is  blotted." 

"Speak  not  thus,  come,  rest  thee  upon  me. 

Think  how  for  thee 
Kindly  I'll  care,  in  my  arms  protect  thee, 

Even  as  now. 
All  through  thy  life,  to  the  burial-grove 

Where  we  shall  be  laid. 
Ne'er  did  I  plead,  nor  now  am  I  pleading. 


30  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

But  here  on  thy  bosom 
Confess  I  that  humble 
Makes  me  thy  love." 

"  Humble  he  is  not  who  yet  doth  hold  me 

Against  my  will. 
Warm  with  my  father's  blood  how  darest  thou 

Breathe  words  of  love  ? 
Release  me,  thy  hand  like  the  pyre  doth  burn  me 

This  night  that  burned. 
Bear  me  to  death,  to  dishonor  bear  me. 

Show  now  thy  power, 

lamtland's  warrior. 

Over  a  woman  !  " 

The  train  drew  near,  and  noise  and  laughter 

Rang  through  the  forest; 
He  took  her  up,  and  away  he  leaped 

Into  the  gloom. 
Silent  she  sat  on  his  arm,  nor  heard  he 

Aught  save  her  sobbing;  — 
Whereat  slowly  his  stride  was  slackened, 

Until  he  stood  still, 

Listened  and  waited, 

Silent  and  redeless. 

"Strength  goes  out  of  me,  now  thou  art  silent-, 

Threaten  me  rather!" 
"Nay,  no  longer  I  threaten,  thou  from  me 


THE  CAPTURE  OF  INGIGERD  31 

Hast  stolen  the  strength. 
How  hast  thou  betrayed  me,  against  me  how  sinned! 

Oh,  let  me  go! 
Else  drag  me  down  to  death  and  dishonor, 

Be  quick,  make  an  end ! 

Life  for  me  is  over. 

Before  'tis  begun." 

*'Goest  thou,  Ingigerd,  then  dies  out  forever 

The  light  from  my  life." 
"Mine  died  out  when  this  night  was  kindled 

Fire  in  our  home. 
What  thou  bearest  is  but  the  ashes. 

Strew  them  abroad 
Over  thy  path  like  a  corpse-gray  carpet.  .  .  . 

May  it  adorn 

And  deck  with  glory 

Thy  chieftain  track." 

Amidst  the  noise  and  laughter  about  him 

Lifted  he  her 
Free  from  his  arms  and  gently  set  her 

Down  at  his  feet. 
Spoke  not  a  word,  but  set  his  gaze  only 

Where  yonder  she  passed, 
Wending  back  toward  the  fire-scarred  farmstead. 

The  mountain-side  down. 

And  still  he  stood  there 

When  she  had  vanished. 


FOURTH  SONG 

THE  CLOISTER  IN  THE  SOUTH 

Who  would  enter  so  late  the  cloister  in?" 
"A  maid  forlorn  from  the  land  of  snow." 
"What  sorrow  is  thine,  and  what  thy  sin?" 
"The  deepest  sorrow  the  heart  can  know. 
I  have  nothing  done, 
Yet  must  still  endeavor. 
Though  my  strength  be  none, 
To  wander  ever. 
Let  me  in,  to  seek  for  my  pain  surcease, 
I  can  find  no  peace." 

"From  what  far-ofF  land  hast  thou  taken  flight?" 
"From  the  land  of  the  North,  a  weary  way." 
"What  stayed  thy  feet  at  our  gate  this  night?" 

"The  chant  of  the  nuns,  for  I  heard  them  pray, 
And  the  song  gave  peace 
To  my  soul,  and  blessed  me; 
It  offered  release 

From  the  grief  that  oppressed  me. 
Let  me  in,  so  if  peace  to  give  be  thine, 
I  may  make  it  mine!" 

"Name  me  the  grief  that  thy  life  hath  crossed." 

"  Rest  may  I  never,  never  know." 
"Thy  father,  thy  lover,  thou  hast  then  lost?" 

"I  lost  them  both  at  a  single  blow. 


THE  CLOISTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  33 

And  all  I  held  dear 
In  my  deepest  affection; 
Ay,  all  that  was  near 
To  my  heart's  recollection. 
Let  me  in,  I  am  failing,  I  beg,  I  implore, 
I  can  bear  no  more." 

"How  was  it  that  thou  thy  father  lost?" 
"He  was  slain,  and  I  saw  the  deed." 
"How  was  it  that  thou  thy  lover  lost?" 

"My  father  he  slew,  and  I  saw  the  deed. 
I  wept  so  bitterly 
When  he  roughly  would  woo  me. 
He  at  last  set  me  free. 
And  forbore  to  pursue  me. 
Let  me  in,  the  horror  my  soul  doth  fill. 
That  I  love  him  still." 

Chorus  of  nuns  within  the  lighted  church 
Come  child,  come  bride. 
To  God's  own  side, 
From  grief  find  rest 
On  Jesus'  breast. 
Rest  thy  burden  of  sorrow 
On  Horeb's  height; 
Like  the  lark,  with  the  morrow 
Shall  thy  soul  take  flight. 


34  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Here  stilled  is  all  yearning, 
No  passion  returning; 
No  terror  come  near  thee 
Where  the  Saviour  can  hear  thee. 
For  He,  if  in  need  be 
Thy  storm-beaten  soul, 
Though  it  bruised  as  a  reed  be, 
Shall  raise  it  up  whole. 


FIFTH  SONG 

ARNLJOT'S  YEARNING  FOR  THE  SEA 

r  OR  the  sea,  the  sea,  my  spirit  is  yearning, 

Where  wide  it  heaves  in  its  calm  majestic. 

Bearing  its  burden  of  mountainous  fog-banks, 

Eternally  rolling  in  self-communion. 

Though  the  heavens  bend  down, and  the  shores  are  calling. 

It  is  restless  ever,  and  knows  no  yielding. 

In  the  nights  of  summer,  the  winter  tempests. 

It  voices  ever  its  plaint  of  longing. 

For  the  sea,  for  the  sea,  my  spirit  is  yearning. 

Where  wide  it  raises  its  frigid  forehead ! 

Upon  it  the  world  casts  its  darksome  shadow. 

And  all  its  murmuring  sorrow  mirrors. 

But  also  the  sun  gives  it  light-warm  greeting. 

And  blithely  tells  of  the  joy  of  living. 

Yet  moodily  quiet,  and  ice-cold  ever 

In  its  depths  are  swallowed  comfort  and  sorrow. 

The  full  moon  draws  it,  the  hurricane  stirs  it. 

But  they  lose  their  grasp,  and  on  streams  the  water. 

The  lowlands  are  melted,  the  highlands  crumble. 

As  even  it  sweeps  on  its  way  eternal. 

What  it  draws  with  it,  its  course  must  follow, 

What  sinks  beneath,  is  submerged  forever. 

No  cry  is  heard,  and  there  comes  no  message, 

And  its  own  speech  may  none  interpret. 


36  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Far  out  to  the  sea  reaches  forth  my  spirit, 
The  sea,  that  knows  not  an  hour's  appeasement! 
For  all  who  sigh,  'tis  the  sure  deliverer; 
But  bears  its  own  riddle  forever  onward, 
Keeping  with  death  this  pact  mysterious, 
That  all  it  gives  him,  save  itself  only! 

I  am  urged,  O  sea,  by  thy  melancholy. 

To  cast  aside  all  my  weary  scheming. 

And  let  take  flight  all  my  anxious  longings: 

Thy  cold  waters  shall  lave  my  bosom. 

Let  death  come,  for  his  prey  low-lurking: 

A  space  is  left  us  still  for  our  playing! 

Some  hours  I'll  filch  from  thy  covetous  keeping 

Cleaving  onward  in  angry  passion. 

Thou  shalt  but  fill  my  straining  mainsail 

With  thy  tempest-breath  of  destruction. 

Thy  raging  billows  shall  bear  more  swiftly 

My  little  craft  into  quiet  waters. 

What  if  I  stand  alone  at  the  rudder. 

Forsaken  by  all,  and  by  death  forgotten. 

Watching  stranger  sails  from  the  distance  wafted. 

And  others  gliding  by  in  the  night-time. 

What  if  alone  I  list  to  the  ground-swell, 

— The  sigh  of  the  ocean,  its  breath  deep-drawing — 

To  its  waves  as  they  ripple  against  the  timbers 

—  In  pastime  relieving  its  melancholy! 

Then  shall  be  washed  away  my  longings. 


ARNLJOT'S  YEARNING  FOR  THE  SEA        37 

And  merged  in  the  sea-deep  sorrows  of  nature, 

Then  the  cold  of  the  sea  and  the  night-time 

For  the  kingdom  of  death  my  soul  shall  strengthen. 

Now  dawns  the  day!  Renewed  my  courage; 

My  heart  leaps  up  to  the  light  and  the  heavens. 

My  ship  snufFs  the  breeze,  and  lays  its  broadside 

Exultant  against  the  foaming  billows. 

Singing  the  boy  clambers  up  to  the  masthead, 

To  set  the  sail  with  the  wind  now  swelling, 

And  my  thoughts  race  ever  like  sea-birds  weary 

About  spar  and  rigging,  but  find  no  foothold.  .  .  . 

To  the  sea,  to  the  sea!  thither  fared  Vikar! 

Like  him  to  sail,  like  him  plunge  downward 

At  the  prow  of  my  ship  in  the  cause  of  Olaf  I 

My  ice-cold  mood  with  my  sharp  keel  cleaving. 

With  the  lightest  zephyr  my  hope  renewing! 

Upon  the  helm  death's  clammy  fingers. 

And  the  light  of  heaven  upon  my  pathway ! 

And  then  all  at  once  in  the  final  hour 

To  note  the  nails  in  my  timbers  yielding. 

And  death  bearing  down  on  the  sundered  planking 

And  the  saving  flood  of  the  sea  in-rushing! 

Then  to  lie  down  in  my  clouts  all  dripping. 

And  be  lowered  amain  to  the  silence  eternal. 

While  my  name  to  the  shore  will  roll  with  the  billows 

In  the  silent  nights  made  bright  by  the  moonbeams. 


SIXTH  SONG 

IN  THE   MIST  OF  THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN 

Ueath's  coast  is  it  that  now  looms  before  us? 
Ne'er  have  I  met  with  a  darkness  like  this. 
Night  sinks  upon  us  as  though  never  to  rise  again; 
For  weeks  in  a  circle  we  sail. 

The  roar  of  breakers  against  the  cliffs 
Wildly  dashing  we  hear  through  the  mist. 
By  the  currents  driven  among  ice-bound  islands, 
Fly  we,  but  know  not  whither. 

There  are  times  when  we  who  are  sailing  together 

Lose  sight  of  each  other,  nothing  hearing 

Save  the  roar  of  the  death-dealing  reefs  that  below 

us  lie  lurking. 
Or  perchance  a  blowing  whale. 

Ne'er  see  we  men,  or  sails,  or  house-roofs, 
About  the  wild  mountains  sea- fowl  screaming, 
Monsters  of  the  sea  around  on  the  drifting  ice-pack, 
All  in  a  dim  gray  light. 

Lights  in  the  heaven  like  ranks  of  spears, 
Seen  when  the  fog  clears  away, — they  tremble. 
Flashing  and  flaming,  they  streak  the  sky,  and  they 

dart. 
Then  gather  into  a  sheaf. 


THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN  39 

Once  again  with  their  playing  points 
They  cross  one  another  from  either  side, 
Stream  and  kindle,  lighting  the  arch  of  heaven. 
Divide,  and  flicker,  and  dart. 

Darkness  again,  in  the  dark  a  death-cry. 

Came  it  from  us,  or  was  it  a  warning? 

The  menace  lies  here  by  the  side  of  the  ship  — 

row  on! 
Fear  knew  ye  not  ere  now. 

See,  a  boat  with  but  one  man  in  it! 
Madly  he  rows  'gainst  the  stormy  current. 
Row,  my  men,  we  are  a  hundred,  he  but  one, 
Row,  we  must  see  who  he  is ! 

Ho!  now  upsets  he  the  boat  —  is  gone! 

No,  he  is  there^  on  the  other  quarter! 

Again  he  chokes  in  the  wave,  —  see,  now  he  is 

there ! 
Onward!  heed  him  not! 

Far  away  are  we  from  Bretland's  mead-horns, 
Far  from  the  church-bells  in  Irish  steeples, 
Is  yonder  a  tempest,  driving  dark  from  the  west? 
Then  is  our  doom  made  sure. 

Who  can  say,  who  knows  whither  we're  faring? 
Another  gleaming  ice-peak  rises; 


40  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Scud!  List  to  leeward  the  wild  beasts  of  the  break- 
ers— About! 
Put  out  to  sea  once  more! 

Who  is  he  sitting  there  among  you, 

Right  in  the  midmost  thwart?  Give  answer! 

Mark  him,  standing  out  like  a  leaf-crowned  tree 

'gainst  the  sky. 
About  him  the  fog  now  lifts. 

Light  streams  forth  from  his  face  and  helmet, 
Blue  is  his  vesture,  and  red  is  he  bearded. 
About  plays  the  lightning.  See  you  his  shoulders, 

his  neck, 
See  you  the  flash  of  his  eye! 

"Man  of  might,  who  art  thou,  where  are  we? 
For  weeks  we  sail  in  the  night  'midst  wonders. 
How  was  it  thou  cam'st  on  board,  and  what  wilt 

thou  with  us  — 
Is  it  death  thou  bringest,  or  life?" 

Answered  he,  and  the  sea  waxed  calm : 
'■'■Here  lie  the  waters  thy  soul  was  seeking 
What  time  thy  wish  was  ever  the  sea  to  roam ! 
Here  is  waging  the  mightiest  strife. 

"Well  know  I  the  land  from  the  great  days  olden 
When  hither  I  came  and  slew  the  giants. 


THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN  41 

Behold  them  here  standing,  to  ice-mountains  frozen, 
Overthrown  in  the  sea. 

"I  it  was  who  smote  with  my  hammer 
When  my  followers  called  upon  me. 
Swore  by  my  ruddy  beard,  and  made  sacrifice. 
In  the  hammer  finding  their  shield. 

"Warlocks  twain  here  for  years  found  refuge. 
Ranged  the  land  with  their  mighty  besoms. 
Swept  my  followers  into  the  ocean,  striking 
Heaven  and  sea  with  storms. 

"In  a  sea-filled  mountain  fissure  I  found  them, 
Blocked  it  up,  since  then  they  have  stayed  there; 
Set  then  to  rights  a  few  small  matters  that  vexed. 
Here  now  reigns  a  fitting  peace. 

"/it  was  who  urged  thee  up  northward; 
Too  worthy  thou  art  yon  to  be  spent. 
Here,  where  swelling  in  fury  the  sea  thou  canst 

hear, 
Is  the  place  for  a  man  of  deeds. 

"  Lately  the  tempest  raged  through  the  West, 
Then  was  it  I  who  was  passing  over. 
Lightnings  flashed  as  the  storm  swept  over  the 

valley, 
Then  was  it  I  who  came. 


42  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

"Follow  thou  me  —  in  that  course  is  salvation. 
Thee  will  I  own,  thou  Northland  warrior! 
Me  hast  thou  worshipped,  unwitting,  whenever  in 

battle 
Men  to  me  thou  hast  sent. 

"  Here  on  the  coasts  of  death  storm-stricken. 
Here  can  I  show  myself,  here  can  speak  to  thee; 
Give  thyself  to  me,  and  thee  on  the  horns  of  lightning 
Will  I  raise  to  eternal  life. 

"The  life  of  honor,  o'er  death  triumphant. 
Through  the  clammy  fog  a  way  sharp-cleaving, 
Shining  bright  each  day  as  the  sunshine  of  the  gods 
On  mankind  and  his  grief." 

"Fair  art  thou,  and  thy  speech  consoling. 
The  coasts  of  death  lie  indeed  before  us. 
Far  more  blissful  to  rise  with  thee  to  honor, 
Than  sink  in  the  ice-cold  sea. 

"Where  then  lies  it,  that  shining  shore? 
Who  art  thou,  that  can  lead  me  thither? 
Ne'er  will  I  trust  myself  and  faith  to  thy  v/ord, 
See  must  I  and  understand." 

"Fight  with  me,  and  my  name  thou  knowest!" 

Answered  the  other,  erect  uprising. 
"Exalted  in  death  upon  heaven's  warrior-shield, 

All  will  be  clear  to  thy  sight. 


THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN  43 

"Come,  live  the  warrior-life  of  the  valiant  dead, 
Fall  on  the  battle-field,  rise  up  to  the  banquet ! 
Skalds  shall  sing  of  thy  name  at  the  table  of  the  gods. 
Later  itself  it  will  sing." 

Answered  Arnljot:  "If  but  to  strife 
Shall  I  from  the  coasts  of  death  be  carried. 
To  battle  unending  without  danger  and  aimless. 
Sink  will  I  rather  here. 

"A  vain  thing  seems  to  me  the  gods'  existence, 
Day  after  day  to  fight  for  the  sake  of  fighting, 
Feigning  to  fall,  rising  up,  and  renewing  the  feint  — 
That  is  not  life,  but  sport. 

"Lift  my  life  to  the  sunlit  uplands! 
Hast  thou  no  reply  to  the  thousand  questions 
Born  of  my  need,  of  my  woe,  of  my  burning  anger, 
Then  give  me  the  silence  of  death." 

'■''  Silence^  fool!" — From  on  high  the  cry  came  booming. 
Trembled  the  men,  'twas  the  voice  of  the  thunder. 
Darker  it  grew,  nor  above,  nor  ahead,  could  they  see. 
Stricken  with  fear  by  the  voice. 

"Outcast  then  in  the  night  shalt  thou  struggle! 
Him  who  rejoices  not  in  the  battle 
No  valkyrie  shall  lift  up  to  life;  he  is  dead, — 
Barred  from  the  warrior's  ring." 


44  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

As  of  overthrown  mountains,  the  tempest's  crash 
Shook  the  sea  and  the  earth  and  the  heavens, 
The  long-ship  lay  like  a  leaf,  while  the  billows  cast 
A  veil  o'er  the  warriors'  eyes. 

Alone  he  there  amidships  stood.  .  .  . 

But  above  the  sea  and  the  thunderous  fury 

Caught  they  a  glimpse  of  two  scurrying  giant  maidens 

Raking  things  all  in  a  heap. 

For  with  their  long  and  sweeping  besoms 
Unloosed  they  the  floods,  the  ocean  drenching, 
Space  could  not  hold  such  a  terror  as  spread  then  around, 
Moaning  'midst  ashes  and  dust. 

But  at  the  ship's  side  the  troll  as  before 

Rowed  along,  all  alone  in  his  boat. 

Upset  it  and  sank,  and  again  appeared  on  the  surface.  .  .  . 

Ever  waxed  fiercer  the  storm. 

They  made  no  headway,  for  all  their  strength, 
Death-weary,  the  warriors  sank  from  the  thwarts. 
The  mast  was  snapped,  cast  off  or  splintered  the  rudder — 
They  drove  straight  on  to  the  cliffs. 

In  their  utmost  need  they  called  to  their  leader: 
"Rescue  us  now,  thou  of  help  so  scornful! 
Is  thy  faith  so  firm  in  thyself,  then  delay  not. 
Show  that  to  save  it  avails."  — 


THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN  45 

"Faith  in  myself  I  have!"  Then  leaping 
From  thwart  to  cliff-side,  he  cried:  "Now  follow! 
Gifted  with  courage,  a  man  is  conquered  not,  though  he 

fall; 
Show  that  the  gift  is  yours ! " 

Leaped  the  warriors,  one  after  another. 

Some  fell  in,  were  engulfed  by  the  waters. 

Others  with  faith  in  their  conquering  strength  set  foot 

Firm  on  the  cliff-side  and  stood. 


SEVENTH  SONG 

THE  LURE  OF  DREAMS 

Worn  by  the  desperate  voyage  and  dreary, 

Under  the  trees  thou  Hest  weary. 

Now  art  thou  bewailing 

The  freedom  missed  in  thy  dreamful  sailing. 

Now  hast  thou  for  wending 

Endless  ways,  frustration  unending. 

Now? 

Whither  beckons  thy  doom  ? 

Yielding  thee  up — but  to  what  and  to  whom? 

Seest  thou  where  her  veil  she  raises 

With  her  fair  white  hands,  upreaching 

To  the  throne  of  grace,  and  gazes 

Fervently  in  her  beseeching? 

Like  doves  homing 

Are  the  prayers  she  breathes  when  roaming 

Through  earth's  byways, 

As  she  seeks  the  heavenly  highways, 

Notes  of  love  divinely  cooing, 

In  her  bosom  peace  renewing. 
Thou?  —  Driven  onward,  thy  burden  bearing. 
Knowing  no  helper,  or  whither  art  faring. 
Through  fog-banks  thou  goest 
Aimless  and  blind,  and  no  guidance  thou  knowest. 
On  dost  thou  mind  thee? 

All  that  thou  dost  but  the  tighter  doth  bind  thee. 
Say! 


THE  LURE  OF  DREAMS  47 

What  is  thy  goal  ? 

What  is  the  course  that  shall  save  thee  thy  soul? 

Hear'st  thou,  where  in  rapture  quiring, 

With  other  maiden  voices  blending, 

Yearning  hers  soars  up,  aspiring. 

Toward  the  bliss  that  is  unending? 

Sorrows  crushing 

Are  the  water-springs  low-singing. 

Radiant  gushing. 

All  their  dews  as  offerings  bringing. 
Life  and  strength  alike  thou  hast  wasted. 
Of  craft  and  vengeance  the  bitterness  tasted;  — 
Peace  thou  hast  sought  for, 

Fumbling  with  blood-stained  hands  hast  fought  for; 
Impulses  driving 

Urge  but  to  evil  and  death-empty  striving. 
No! 

Way  is  there  none 
That  leads  to  the  goal  to  thy  vision  shown. 

See  how  for  thee  she  is  praying. 

On  her  bended  knees  now  planted! 
"In  his  sinful  pathway  straying, 

Be  to  him  salvation  granted!"  .  .  . 

How  unfailing 

O'er  all  sinful  dreams  prevailing. 

See  her  raising 

Hands  to  God,  rapt  upward  gazing: 
"Saviour,  God,  do  not  forsake  me, 

For  Thee  yearning,  to  Thee  take  me!" 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Aimless  thy  course  against  destiny  beating, 
Fallen  and  outcast;  —  set  thee  a  meeting 
With  death  on  the  morrow! 
So  make  an  end  of  thy  need  and  thy  sorrow. 
On  eternity  verging, 

Thy  life  without  content  in  nothingness  merging. 
Have  done! 

The  past  dost  thou  rue. 

Naught  better  the  future  reveals  to  thy  view. 
''Up  I  soar,  my  longings  sating, 

All  to  Thee  now  consecrating. 

Enraptured  doth  my  soul  confess  Thee, 

More  and  more  I  would  possess  Thee. 

My  heart  hath  brought  me 

To  the  faith  that  Thou  hast  taught  me. 

Now  I  surely 

Rest  my  hopes  in  heaven  securely;  .  .  . 

Welcome  them,  accept,  renew  them. 

Soon  shall  I  be  gathered  to  them!" 


EIGHTH  SONG 

THE  SPRING  FRESHETS 

Winter  it  was  not,  it  was  not  spring, 
Rainfall  time, 

Weeks  of  down-pouring,  of  snow-banks  melting. 
Mountain  avalanches,  and  felling  of  forests, — 
Then  came  the  fierce  and  ravaging  tempests! 

Terror-stricken,  men  gathered  at  the  hearth-side, 
Listening  to  the  snow-fields,  at  the  floods  staring. 
Waited  and  prayed. 
Safety  was  there  in  no  direction. 
The  boats  were  away, 
Broken  the  bridges.  .  .  . 

Thought  they,  each  time  a  snow-slide  started: 
Now  is  our  turn! 

At  times  they  saw 
Overtake  the  land-slide's  rushing  horror 
A  near-by  dwelling: 

Saw  it  balanced  high  up  on  the  mountain, 
Growing  apace,  looming,  and  falling; 
Like  a  host  from  the  pit  it  swept  darkly  onward. 
Shaking  the  earth. 

Trees  fled  before  it  like  living  creatures.  .  .  . 
The  hurricane  tore  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow. 
Onward  it  dashed. 
Uprooted  and  crashed. 
Flung  out  and  smashed 
Houses  in  thousands  of  splinters. 


50  ARNLJOT  GRLLINE 

Then  the  slide,  as  an  army  trampling, 

'Neath  the  rocks  buried  the  dead  forever. 

The  flood  rose  by  fathoms,  rich  was  its  prey. 

Upon  its  waters,  muddy  and  sullen. 

Logs  were  drifting,  and  helpless  cattle, 

Horses  struggled  amidst  the  flotsam. 

Birds  of  prey  followed; 

Now  a  sharp  cry  of  anguish  was  heard. 

Now  a  death-groan. 

Through  the  wreck  rushing  a  corpse  was  seen. 
Frightful  it  was  to  behold  by  day. 

Worse  in  the  night,  when  all  was  but  heard. 

But  when  the  storm  then 

Came  to  break  up  what  the  rain  had  loosened, 

Came  to  cast  down  what  was  spared  by  the  land- 
slide. 

Forests  overthrowing,  the  lowlands  flushing, 

Razing  house  after  house, 
*' Ragnarok!"  shouted  men  fleeing, 
"The  day  of  death  and  destruction  has  come." 
Up  in  the  mountains  a  man  forced  his  way 

Among  the  storm-stricken  trunks  primeval, 

Pursuing  alone  his  tempest-bound  course. 

Slain  were  all  who  had  shared  in  his  voyage. 

When  he  saw  the  last  of  them  washed  away. 

Forspent  he  stood  alone  in  the  storm. 

Looked  about  him,  softly  musing: 
"The  sea  in  its  bosom 
Refuses  to  fold  me; 


THE  SPRING   FRESHETS  51 

Little  leaves  me 
The  solid  earth." 

Food  was  his  of  the  torrent's  bearing, 
Fire  himself  he  bore, 

Caves  roofed  him,  and  there  was  fire-wood. 
Sought  he  one  evening  a  safer  shelter, 
Found  it  too,  a  cavern  protected 
By  rough-hewn  timbers. 
Long  since  built  by  Finns  for  their  shelter, 
Or  by  hunted  outlaw-folk. 

From  its  cavernous  depths  and  passages  narrow 
To  his  sense  an  unbearable  stench 
Came  from  all  sides.  Little  he  heeded, 
Laid  him  to  rest,  and  was  sleeping  almost 
Ere  his  head  found  a  pillow. 

But  in  his  sleep  the  pestilent  stench 
Filled  his  head  with  distressful  dreams; 
Now  he  thought  him  in  futile  conflict. 
His  foes  not  men, 

But  a  pack  of  small  gray  beasts  that  grunted. 
Now  close-wrapped  in  ice-gray  wool 
Lay  he  and  suffered,  scarce  able  to  breathe. 
Cast  he  the  wrappings  off,  and  was  lifted 
In  and  out  of  a  sea  of  fog. 
Sinister  creatures  floated  around  him. 
Changing  their  shapes  as  past  they  drifted. 
Hideous  forms  through  the  fog-bank  peered, 
Long  and  woolly  tentacles  reached  out. 


52  .  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Seeking  to  grasp  him, 

Gray  were  they  all,  the  trolls  and  the  goblins, 

Wry  of  feature. 

Then  with  an  outcry 

Shrill  he  awakened, — 

But  from  the  gloomy  and  narrow  passages 

Back  the  cry  echoed. 

He  started  in  terror,  then  he  fell  back. 
Started  again,  and  loudly  shouted. 
Hardly  knowing  what  he  was  doing, — 
From  the  recesses 

Heard  he  the  echoing  raucous  laughter. 
Slumber-drunken,  he  sought  to  explore. 
To  learn  what  were  housed  here  of  evil  powers. 
Light  crept  in  with  the  dawn  of  day. 
Stronger  the  stench  and  the  outcry  waxed, 
And  with  sight  to  the  shadow  accustomed. 
Meet  now  his  gaze 
— Wherever  it  strays  — 
Eyeballs  sparkling. 
Glowing,  yellow. 

Like  red-hot  coals  his  view  confronting. 
Slowly  before  him  the  mists  took  shape. 
First  as  wool-gray  fog-banks  rolling. 
Took  then  as  bodies  form  and  color, 
Beast  on  beast, 
Great  and  small. 
All  the  kinds  in  the  forest  nursed. 

Crept  had  they  hither  by  ways  tempestuous. 


THE  SPRING  FRESHETS  53 

'Midst  clashing  of  mountains; 

When  quaked  the  earth,  their  strength  was  smitten, 

All  their  powers  spent  in  the  freshet. 

Madly  driven  by  thunder  and  lightning. 

Onward  they  rushed,  or  crawled,  storm-beaten. 

And  pell-mell  tumbled  into  the  cavern. 

There  they  lay,  at  each  other  glowered. 

The  wolf  at  the  fox,  and  the  bear  at  both; 

United  all  in  their  fear  of  man. 

They  shook  before  him  who  darkened  the  entrance. 

Howled  in  greeting,  and  slunk  to  the  rear. 

Ho!  then  laughed  he, — a  hundred  fold 
Back  from  the  cavern  the  laugh  was  echoed; 
All  the  flood-gates  of  horror 
Flew  wide  at  the  howl  of  the  terrified  pack: 
In  fear  of  each  other. 
In  fear  of  the  echoes'  menacing  rumble, 
Screaming  and  trembling. 

They,  who  o'er  hundreds  of  lives  had  been  master, 
For  their  own  with  terror  now  froze. 

"This  is  mankind!  —  Where'er  I  have  fared, 
They  also  were  gathered  together. 
Hiding  their  hatred,  and  howling  in  chorus, 
Some  to  the  old,  and  some  to  the  new  gods. 
Deaf  to  their  pleading. 

Had  I  but  all  that  the  world  holds  of  foulness 
In  one  place  like  this  all  huddled  together!" 
Backward  he  crept,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  them. 
Until  he  stood  in  the  outermost  entrance, 


54  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Sprang  to  his  feet  and  kindled  a  fire, 

Twigs  and  branches  and  fire-wood  gathered, 

Set  them  aflame! 

Apace  spread  the  fire,  fanned  by  the  draught, 

Flames  blazed  up,  by  the  wind  swept  forward. 

Curling  and  licking,  the  smoke-clouds  rolled 

In  the  cavern. 

Backwards  the  beasts  slunk,  howling  and  screeching. 

In  the  cavern. 

None  of  them  daring  to  lie  near  the  entrance. 

Escape  cut  off  by  the  wall  behind  them. 

Crawled  they  over  each  other's  bodies. 

Until  those  lying  under 

Bit  those  above  them. 

Wolves  and  lynxes,  bears  and  foxes, 

Plunged  in  a  welter  of  blood  and  smoke. 

Struggled  and  howled. 

Until  in  the  throes  of  death  convulsive, 

Lay  they  with  teeth  in  each  other  fastened. 

He  who  without 
Stood,  cleansed  by  the  storm,  lashed  by  the  tempest. 
Lingered  long. 

When  the  last  yelps  of  revenge  bloodthirsty 
To  growls  were  subdued  in  the  blazing  pyre. 
Turned  he  about. 

Set  his  gaze  on  the  fog-banks  dripping, 
Down  on  the  swollen,  clay-gray  torrent, 
Up  to  the  scudding  cloud-drift. 
Then  set  he  forth. 


THE  SPRING  FRESHETS  55 

Heard  in  the  distance  the  rumbling  thunder, 

The  mountains'  reply, 

Drew  new  strength  from  the  clean-washed  air. 

'T  was  not  for  long  he  fared  in  peace. 

Just  as  he  flung  himself  down  on  a  boulder, 

After  long  straying  o'er  crags  and  foot-hills, 

Heard  he  hollow,  moaning  sounds 

From  the  earth  rising. 

The  hillocks  on  hinges  seemed  hanging,  and 

rocking. 
The  earth-crust  heaved,  up  he  was  lifted, 
High  up  and  higher, —  ^ 

But  by  naught  that  he  saw, 
But  by  naught  that  he  heard. 
Mysterious  thunder  afar-off"  pealed. 
Mocking  laughter  he  seemed  to  hear 
From  the  grassy  slopes  around; 
"Far  ofF  in  Gyga 
Heard  I  my  pigs  a-grunting. 
Fie!  for  a  reek  of  fire  in  the  mountain  forests!" 
Up  was  he  lifted  to  the  highest  tree-top. 
Seized  fast  upon  it,  and  held  there  hanging; 
Up  was  the  tree  lifted,  even  as  he. 
High  up  and  higher, — 
But  by  naught  that  he  saw, 
But  by  naught  that  he  heard. 

Mysterious  thunder  afar-off  pealed, 
Mocking  laughter  he  seemed  to  hear 
From  the  grassy  slopes  around. 


56  ARNLJOT   GELLINE 

"The  Gyga-Beast, 

Grandfather  troll, 

Wanted  to  fool  thee, 

Gave  thee  my  pigs  for  his  sport. 

Amid  the  trees  hidden. 

Lay  he  and  laughed. 

The  rascal!" 

Again  he  was  lifted  — ;  the  hill-tops 

Were  twisted  this  way  and  that. 

The  skies  sank  down  below. 

The  river  rose  flowing  above  them 

Through  a  green  valley. 

Mysterious  thunder  afar-off  pealed, 

Mockina;  laughter  he  seemed  to  hear 

From  the  grassy  slopes  around : 
"Now  I  revenge  me. 

Here  I  command. 

Fit  thyself,  sea-horse. 

To  my  limping  gait!" 

Now  was  he  above  on  the  river-bottom, 

Now  was  he  beneath  'midst  the  crags  and  foot-hills, 

Lifted  and  slung. 

Driven  and  flung, — 

But  when  all  was  over. 

And  his  sight  came  back, 

He  stood  on  his  feet  as  before. 

Then  pierced  through  earth  and  air 
Sharp  as  a  sword, 
A  word!  .  .  . 


THE  SPRING  FRESHETS  57 

Corpse-pale  turned  the  heavens,  as  quaking  upon 
them  he  gazed, 

Riven  the  mountains  sank,  then  fell  the  raven- 
black  night; 

But  an  unending  host, 

Above  and  below, 

Forth  from  the  mountains,  up  from  the  hills, 

Emerged,  streamed  onward,  marched, 

The  whole  of  the  groaning  earth 

Travailed.  .  .  . 

Out  from  the  east  there  gleamed  in  the  darkness 
On  its  need  and  its  terror  a  beckoning  light; 
Forward  it  leaped,  mightily  waxing. 
Building  a  bridge  through  the  tempest-tossed  air, 
Over  which  to  his  vision  marched  a  procession 
Of  holy  men  and  white-clad  children, 
Chanting  hymns  to  bells  soft  chiming. 
Bearing  torches,  wreaths,  and  crosses. 
Thereafter  soldiers,  tall  and  hardened. 
Bearing  weapons,  shields,  and  banners, 
And  he  saw  in  the  inmost  circle 
Clearly  the  K'mg  on  a  milk-white  charger — 
The  cross  before  him,  skalds  about  him. 
Endless  the  following  army. 
Sun-burnt  was  he,  and  seated  firmly. 
With  gleaming  eye,  and  fair  hair  falling. 
And  ruddily  o'er  his  breast-plate  bearded. 
Mighty  he  sat. 


58  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Broad-axe  in  his  right,  shield  in  his  left. 
Loud  sang  the  skalds: 
"Through  the  fury 

Of  the  western  tempest 

Seest  thou  Norway's 

Sun  uprising. 

Blood-red  falling 

Its  light  on  the  mountain, 

As  of  yore  blood-red 

Peace  fell  from  heaven. 

Lofty  the  claim 

Of  the  cross,  O  King, 

Be  thou  leader, 

Xhee  we  follow  ! " 
Forward  the  host  marched,  jubilant,  gleaming. 
Flanked  on  either  side  by  the  tempest. 
Dark  walling  it  round. 
But  on  the  singing  and  milk-white  bridge 
Hair  was  not  lifted,  and  lights  did  not  flicker. 
Onward  it  passed,  far  over  the  mountains. 
Like  a  star  it  came,  like  a  star  it  vanished. 

Long  he  stood  there.  —  Then  lay  he  down 
Upon  his  face,  and  awe-struck  whispered: 
"Was  it  only  a  dream  that  passed  before  me, 
Yet  was  it  more  than  all  my  waking; 
It  was  life  itself.  .  .  . 
The  life  I  will  henceforth  live ! 
Olaf  Haraldsson,  King  of  Norway, 
He  it  was;  —  him  have  I  chosen! 


THE  SPRING  FRESHETS  59 

He  has  strength  that  is  not  his  own, 

A  higher  goal  than  aught  I  have  aimed  at. 

Him  must  I  cleave  to." 


NINTH  SONG 

THE  SUMMER  MARCH 

iVlow  it  was  Olaf  Digre 

Came  through  the  forest  down  toward  Trondelag, 

The  host  its  way  slowly  winding 

In  the  sun. 
Onward,  down  toward  the  valley 
It  made — whether  o'er  marsh  or  mead — its  way. 
The  King  rode  all  the  live-long 

Day  alone. 
Already  the  season  drew 

Near  to  autumn. 

None  to  approach  him  ventured;  — 

Though  every  heart  was  o'erflowing,  they  silence  kept. 

Gently  sloping,  the  homeland 

Before  them  lay. 
Birds  rose  up  from  the  meadows. 
The  mid-day  smoke  over  the  forest  swept; 
The  bishop  was  bade  to  sing  praises 

To  the  Lord. 
Joyous  the  sight  of  home 

After  absence. 

Rode  then  Bishop  Sigurd 

Forward  the  King  to  question;  but  made  halt 
While  at  some  distance  from  him, 
And  waited. 


THE  SUMMER   MARCH  6i 

The  King's  august  countenance 

Shone  with  the  light  of  a  distant  glory  seen, 

Nothing  his  gaze  now  visioned 

On  earth. 
"Wondrous  must  be  what  thou  seest. 

Lord  King!" 

Slowly  the  King  then  answered: 
"First  saw  I  the  land,  here  before  me  lying. 
In  the  light  of  the  days  so  joyous 

It  gave  me. 
But  saw  I  ever  farther. 
Trondelag  saw  I,  blue  and  yellow  it  lay; 
Yes,  saw  I  the  summer  over 

All  Norway, 
Fjords  with  meadows  and  woods 

Among  the  mountains. 

"Pierced  then  my  gaze  yet  farther 
Out  o'er  the  sea  to  distant  foreign  shores. 
All  that  in  my  life's  springtime 

I  visited. 
Raised  in  my  soul  the  vision. 
With  laughter  and  gladness  it  filled  my  heart: 
The  world  entire  I  lastly 

Then  beheld. 
My  spirit  it  seemed  to  invoke 

As  in  farewell." 


62  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

"Lord,"  the  bishop  then  answered: 
"Rather  thou  seest  how  far  the  light  of  Christ, 
As  thou  in  this  land  hast  borne  it. 

Shall  shine. 
The  whole  world  in  coming  ages 
Shall  grow  through  the  warm  summer-tide  in  that 

light; 
The  Lord  hath  vouchsafed  thee  the  vision 
For  thy  strengthening." 
The  twain  rode  farther  on 
In  silence. 

Stood  there  an  aged  bonder 

Before  his  house  on  the  road  of  their  march. 

In  the  King's  presence  bowing: 

"Be  welcome! 
Now  is  fulfilled  my  saying: 

Within  a  year's  space  shall  the  King/come  again; 
Ne'er  will  he  leave  his  faithful 

In  distress. 
Sore  was  the  need  of  thy  ward. 

Lord  King." 

"Thanks  for  thy  greeting,  bonder, 
The  first  I  receive  on  my  fatherland's  soil. 
Why  standest  thou  alone  now 
By  the  way?" 

*'A11  the  others  followed 
When  thy  enemies  round  the  people  gathered;  — 


THE  SUMMER    MARCH  63 

Farther  down  the  valley 

There  they  are. 
Luck  to  thy  meeting  with  them! 
Courage  surely  will  fail  the  most  of  them 
The  King's  countenance  beholding 

The  cross  guarding. 
Heavy  am  I  and  old, 

But  I  follow." 

Then  to  the  King  said  some  one: 
"Their  treachery  punish,  burn  their  farmsteads; 
As  soon  as  they  glimpse  the  fire, 

All  shame-faced, 
Tremble  will  they  for  wives  and  children. 
Cowed  by  uncertainty,  maddened  by  fear, 
Soon  will  their  forces  scatter. 

Flight  taking. 
Making  their  army  disband 

In  a  moment." 

Gentle  of  mood  the  King  answered: 
"The  land  I  redeem,  or  perish  myself; 
After  me  shall  it  yet  blossom 
For  your  sake." 
Came  then  a  bonder  weeping. 
Poor  was  he,  and  bewailed  his  loss: 
"Lord,  thy  men  have  down-trodden 
My  corn-field." 


64  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

The  King  rode  about  the  field, 
To  life  it  started. 


Met  him  another  bonder, 
*' Help  me,  O  King,  thee  my  sons  will  join; 
But  they  are  far  too  youthful, 

I  bound  them." 
Then  said  the  pious  King,  smiling: 
*' Release  them,  friend,  and  follow  in  their  steps. 
So  shall  ye  all  come  scatheless 
From  the  conflict." 
Father  followed  sons  —  and  they 
The  King  followed. 

Met  him  then  many  bonders. 
Stood  they  together,  greeted  their  liege: 
"Lord,  what  guerdon  awaits  us. 

Who  follow?" 
"In  the  sight  of  the  Saviour  to  fall. 
Lose  your  goods,  and  all  ye  hold  dear," 
Quietly  the  King  answered; 
Rode  forward. 
The  bonders  weapons  them  found, 
And  followed. 

Met  them  three  hundred  outlaws. 
Gathered  together  from  every  neighboring  part. 
But  mostly  from  lamtland's  forests; 
Thus  spoke  they: 


THE  SUMMER  MARCH  65 

"Great  to  behold  thee,  liege-lord, 
Marching  to  battle  'gainst  tyranny  and  hate; 
With  thy  campaign  will  we 
Join  forces." 
"None  may  join  me  who  is 
Not  a  Christian."  — 

Forward  he  rode  through  the  valley, 
Low  sank  the  sun,  in  a  blood-red  sky, 
Hill-tops  and  grassy  meadows 

Light-flooding. 
Steel-gray  and  cold  flowed  the  river. 
Broad  between  heather  and  woodland  and  marsh, 
Flowed  till  it  reached  the  great  farmsteads. 

And  halted. 
Reached  at  even  the  shining  fjords 

In  the  distance. 

The  paths  which  then  they  were  taking 

Wound  o'er  the  hill-side,  the  whole  valley  revealed, 

The  skalds  sang  at  the  prospect 

At  eventide. 
First  came  the  song  of  Tormod, 
He  who  was  called  Kolbrunarskald; 
At  his  voice  every  man  of  them  heartened 

And  listened. 
The  hills  and  the  mighty  forests 

Gave  answer. 


66  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

"The  land  we  see,"  so  sang  he, 
"  Heroic  deeds  and  blood  now  craves. 
Sated  't  will  be  in  the  conflict 

We  await. 
But  as  it  lies  before  us, 
Joyful  for  it  our  lives  we  risk, 
Worthy  it  is  the  embracing 
Of  warriors ; 
The  royal  wooer  to  his  bride 
We  follow." 

Then  came  the  song  of  young  Torfinn, 
White  was  his  hair  and  white  his  eyebrows, 
Tanned  were  his  features,  cheerful 

His  glances. 
Worn  was  his  cloak,  but  his  sword-blade 
Long  and  keen  with  trappings  of  silver 

gleamed. 
Bestowed  on  that  joyous  spirit 

By  the  King. 
Sprang  he  forth  on  his  horse. 

Thus  sang  he: 

*'Once  more  we  the  land  embrace. 
Not  in  farewell,  but  in  victory's  might, — 
Embrace  will  I  after  the  battle 

A  woman ! 
Waited  has  she,  the  fair  one. 
Listening  eastward,  awaiting  the  war-cry;  — 


THE  SUMMER  MARCH  67 

Sees  in  the  air  she  the  ravens, 
There  are  we ! 
We  all  are  thinking  this  night 
Of  some  woman." 

Then  Gissur  of  stature  lofty 

On  a  stone  sprang  from  the  horse  that  he  rode, 

Sang  then  in  tones  of  silver 

Toward  the  valley. 
The  evening  sun  lighted  his  helmet. 
Over  his  long  pale  face  fell  coal-black  hair, 
Dark  was  his  eye,  half-closed 

It  gleamed. 
Tremulous  sweet  and  slow 

His  utterance. 

"Sooner  here  die  in  Norway 
Than  proudly  live  with  Gardarike's  maidens; 
Sooner  be  slain  with  Olaf 

Than  flee. 
Sooner  the  cross  confessing, 
Bent  on  our  knees,  than  be  exalted  yonder 
With  Tore  Bjarkoi,  and  sacrifice 

To  Odin. 
Sooner  bear  gaping  wounds 

Than  be  faithless." 

Up  rose  then  the  whole  army. 

With  jubilant  shouts  and  blows  on  shields  ringing. 


68  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Gripped  by  their  mood  so  joyous 
Said  the  King  then: 
"Skalds,  now  sing  us  a  war-song, 
All  of  us  will  echo  every  word; 
Norsemen  will  sing  it  in  ages 
Far  distant — 
As  long  as  they  shall  love  song 
Before  battle." 

Then  sang  Gissur  the  swarthy, 

While  forward  by  the  side  of  the  King  he  rode. 

Pledging  troth  to  his  liege-lord 

In  measures  lofty. 
Each  stave  the  army  noted; 
High  upsoared  Gissur's  silver-clear  tones, 
Echoed  them  all  the  army. 

Like  the  ocean 
Billow  on  billow  rolled  over 

The  meadow. 

Then  sang  Tormod  the  mighty. 

In  the  van  he  rode,  but  backward  turned  his  face. 

Drew  from  his  hearers  responses 

Tempestuous. 
The  stave  they  learned;  they  sang  it 
Almost  before  he  himself  had  ended  with  it. 
Jubilant  caught  and  repeated, 

And  sang  it.  .  .  . 


THE  SUMMER   MARCH  69 

The  hills  and  the  mighty  forests 
Gave  answer. 


Then  rose  the  blithe  voice  of  Torfinn, 
Who  set  himself  backward  on  his  horse  and 

sang. 
Sang,  as  with  jest  and  laughter 

They  hailed  him; 
They  might  not  for  very  laughter 
Join  in  the  song,  and  when  anew  he  sang  — 
Even  less  were  they  able; 

They  shouted. 
The  echoes  crackled  around 

In  the  hill-tops. 

So  they  went  toward  the  valley. 

When  the  dark  fell  at  last  on  that  day  of  early 

fall 
Turned  they  aside,  and  gathered 

On  the  lowland. 
Mass  here  the  whole  army 
Heard,  while  they  in  secret  thanked 
The  Lord,  who  to  their  native  soil 

Restored  them. 
In  their  joy  some  broke  from  the  fields 

Spikes  of  grain. 


TENTH  SONG 

IN  THE  CAMP 

CyAMP  they  have  pitched,  it  is  well-nigh  dark; 

Outstretched  lie  the  men  in  the  field,  the  wood  skirting; 

Bonfires  of  brushwood  dot  all  the  ground, 

Some  of  them  half-quenched, 

Others  smoking;  sleep  overcomes  them. 

Forth  from  the  forest  emerge  two  men, 

Between  the  groups  of  men  whetting  their  weapons, 

Now  over  others,  asleep  'neath  their  shields. 

Onward  they  grope 

Until  before  the  King's  fire  they  stand. 

Fur-clad  and  tall,  like  giants  they  loomed. 
Their  hair  and  beard  was  matted  and  tangled. 
Broad-axes  at  side,  spear-shafts  in  hand, 
No  shields  they  bore. 
Over  their  backs  their  bows  were  slung. 

Their  heads  they  bared  not;  stiffly  they  stood 

Before  the  King's  presence,  staring  at  him 

In  the  half-light  of  the  dying  fire, 

Darkness  behind. 

Like  two  wild  beasts  they  emerged  from  the  night. 

Sat  the  King  there  'midst  a  ring  of  men. 
The  bishop,  Finn  Arnesson,  and  Bjorn  Stallar, 


IN  THE  CAMP  71 

Behind  them  lay  Tormod  in  Gissur's  lap. 
Crouching  sat  Torfinn, 
Humming  raked  up  the  fire. 

At  the  same  moment  all  saw  the  men; 
Torfinn  grinned,  and  Finn  burst  out  laughing; 
Bjorn  became  thoughtful,  reached  for  his  sword, 
The  bishop  grew  pale. 
The  King  alone  sat  still  as  before. 

Questioning  gazed  he,  but  spoke  no  word. 
Clearly  his  features  were  seen  in  the  fire-light, 
His  helmet  was  doffed,  and  his  brown-yellow  hair 
Streaming  fell  down 
Over  the  shoulders  wrapped  in  his  cloak. 

Felt  the  men  his  masterful  look 

Like  a  stream  of  fire  through  their  veins  coursing. 

Hastened  to  speak,. ere  the  question  came;  — 

Fear  felt  they  not, 

But  it  seemed  as  if  all  he  saw. 

"Brothers  we  are  from  lamtland  come. 
Our  names  are  Tore  and  Afrafaste. 
Warriors  were  we  with  Arnljot  Gelline; 
Now  we  are  thine, 
We  and  our  band,  some  thirty  men." 


72  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

"Where  is  Arnljot?  Comes  he  not  too?" 
Questioned  the  King;  —  whereat  Tore 
answered: 

"  Heart-heavy  grew  Arnljot,  afar  be  fared. 
From  him  has  come 
No  report.  He  is  lost  at  sea." 

The  King  grew  silent,  forgetful  seemed. 
Never  a  word  the  others  uttered. 
Only  Finn  Arnesson  gave  them  a  nod; 
He  liked  their  looks;  — 
Once  more  the  King  questioned  them: 

"Me  will  ye  serve; — serve  ye  also 

Jesus  Christ,  Lord  of  us  all?" 
"Nay,  no  god  have  we  ever  served;  — 

Wasteful  it  were! 

Let  each  man  do  what  seems  to  him  best." 

"Believe  ye  in  nothing?"  —  "Ay,  in  ourselves; 
Thus  to  believe  we  learned  from  Arnljot. 
Have  thy  men,  who  believe  in  a  god. 
Day  in,  day  out, 
More  achieved  than  one  of  us?" 

*'A  thousand-fold;  highwaymen  ye  are; 
Plainly  I  see,  ye  have  done  but  evil. 
But  if  ye  desire, — baptism  atones: 


IN  THE  CAMP 

Cleanse  with  your  blood 

All  your  sins  in  my  sacred  cause." 

'Ay,  we  are  all  of  us  minded  to  fight, 
Ne'er  in  an  orderly  host  have  we  striven. 
Honor  our  quest,  and  honor,  O  King, 
Is  greatest  with  thee; 
But  this  baptism  suits  us  not." 

Answered  the  King:  "If  battle  is  all 
Ye  wish  for,  fight  in  the  other  army. 
Here  only  those  fight  who  trust  in  God, 
Yield  themselves  up. 
Conquer  and  fall  in  Jesus'  name." 

Finn  sprang  up,  no  longer  he  might 
Restrain  his  impatience;  but  the  King's  eyes. 
Seeking  out  his,  fixed  them  and  held, 
Until  at  last  Finn 
Again  sat  him  down  at  the  King's  feet. 

Bjorn  the  dark-haired  was  sunk  in  thought. 
His  great  and  melancholy  eyes  were  roving 
Over  the  fires  half-quenched  around. 
Just  then  a  song 
Slowly  from  the  heath  soared  up. 

The  two  brothers  already  away  had  turned. 
Wondering  gazed  they  at  one  another. 


73 


74  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

"No,"  said  Tore,  "I  will  not  go, — 
Battle  I  must; 
And  rather  with  him  who  has  so  few." 

Afrafaste  bethought  him  then : 
"Far  too  dangerous  is  this  baptism; 
Do  you  not  think  there  is  witchcraft  in  it? 
This  water  splashed;  — 
And  the  words  they  mutter  then  besides?" 

Tore  answered:  "Indeed  I  think 
Baptism  bewitches,  'tis  plain  to  see: 
All  the  baptized  cleave  to  the  King 
Their  lives  long. 
What  were  the  harm,  if  we  did  also?" 

"This  is  the  second  time  to-day," 
— The  voice  of  Finn  with  the  King  was 
pleading — 

"Thou  hast  rejected  sinewy  men; 
Can  it  be  wise?"  — 
Gently  answered  him  thus  the  King: 

** Reject  I  them  not;  again  will  they  come. 
But  should  they  all  from  us  keep  distant: 
Mine^  who  see  I  am  firm  in  my  faith, 
Firm  are  in  theirs : 
This  't  is  strengthens  our  little  band. 


IN  THE  CAMP  75 

"Ay,  for  each  that  I  turn  away, 

Two  men  grow  in  each  one  of  ours." 
"  Mightest  thou  three  thousand  turn  away," 

Answered  Finn, 
"  For  we  stand  sorely  in  need  of  six." 

Just  then  the  brothers  turned  them  around: 
"Now  have  we  both  given  thought  to  the  matter, 
May  we  not  battle,  just  as  we  are, 
Battle  with  thee^ 
Then  thy  offered  baptism  will  we  accept. 

"  But  thou  thyself  must  go  bail  for  it,  chieftain, 
We  do  not  know  what  it  may  do  to  us. 
Thou  who  knowest,  must  take  it  upon  thee." 

"That  will  I  indeed," 
Answered  them  the  King,  and  smiled. 

Cheerfully  all  of  the  others  laughed. 

Alone  the  bishop  rose,  and,  serious. 

Went  with  the  two  the  way  they  had  come. 

The  army  past. 

Deep  into  the  woods  where  were  their  men. 

Fire  after  fire  now  was  quenched: 
One  alone  where  the  forest  thickened 
Blazed  up  brightly  down  by  the  stream. 
The  sun  uprising 
Mingled  its  rays,  the  light  embraced. 


76  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

The  bishop  was  there  with  the  fur-clad  men; 
Quiet  they  sat  or  reclined  around  him, 
The  story  of  Jesus  fell  from  his  lips, 
Childlike  and  calm. 
Deep  was  the  peace,  and  clear  the  night. 

The  meaning  perchance  was  not  wholly  plain. 

But  upon  their  sense,  like  a  dream  of  childhood. 

Vision  on  vision,  slowly  it  dawned, 

As  were  a  door 

Opened  upon  an  unknown  home. 

"Yes,"  said  Afrafaste  at  last, 

"  Perchance  I  do  not  aright  perceive  it. 

But  if  it  is  true,  there  lives  a  man 

Who  takes  upon  him 

All  the  evil  that  I  have  wrought, — 

"  Henceforth  will  I,  where'er  he  be, 
Give  him  my  life,  unto  death  be  faithful.  .  .  . 
If  't  is  granted  me  to  begin  anew, 
From  this  day  on. 
Both  life  and  death  may  be  worth  the  while!" 

What  time  rose  on  the  scene  the  sun 

— The  hill-tops  burned  and  the  river  twinkled — 

Fell  its  light  on  some  thirty  men; 

Cleansed  they  came  forth 

From  the  chill  water  to  greet  the  morn. 


IN  THE  CAMP  T] 

The  bishop,  an  old  man,  white  and  bent, 
Chanted  a  mass  by  the  murmuring  river. 
Priests  were  there  none,  nor  choral  voices, 
Nothing  to  aid  — 
Save  only  his  own  and  sustaining  faith. 

When  all  was  over,  up  they  arose. 

Grasped  their  weapons,  and  followed  the  bishop 

Forth  through  the  woods  to  the  camp  of  the  King. 

Proud  was  their  gait. 

Now  should  they  fight  in  the  royal  host. 


ELEVENTH  SONG 

THE  KING'S  PRAYER 

JNow  is  at  hand  the  great  hour,  the  hour  long-wished  for. 
Now  shall  the  hammer 

Clash  with  the  cross,  the  faith  with  brute  force  and  defi- 
ance. 
The  offering  with  covetous  might. 
Rage  shall  the  battle 

Perchance  for  a  thousand  years  or  more  the  land  over. 
The  slain  shall  rise  up  again. 
Quickly  transforming  each  loss  to  a  tenfold  gain. 
But  the  foe  likewise  — 
They  too  are  many  — 
Shall  also  be  born  anew. 

Lord,  Thou  canst  see  how  I  seek  in  Thy  footsteps  to 
follow. 

Willed  have  I  naught  for  myself.  Thy  throne  I  am  build- 
ing 

Up  from  the  stones  that  fell  piece  by  piece  from  my  own. 

Thou  seest,  Lord, 

How  poor  is  the  stuff  I  must  use; 

Sinful  myself^ 

Half-tamed  many  who  follow.  .  .  . 

Weak  such  foundation; 

But  with  our  blood 

Shall  we  cement  it  on  the  field  to-morrow;  — 

Do  not  reject  it. 


THE  KING'S  PRAYER  79 

New  generations 
Better  shall  build  it. 

Be  Thou  not  angered  that  many  but  follow  for  my  sake. 
Faith  crave  the  many,  but  faith  have  only  in  what  they 

can  see. 
Scan  not  too  closely ! 

Some  strive  for  riches,  others  for  fame  or  vengeance. 
Many  for  me,  only  few  understanding  wherefore. 
But  for  the  few  who  would  do  Thy  will. 
Forgive  the  others; 
Accept  our  cause,  and  in  failure  raise  it  to  victory ! 

For  all  of  my  sins  hitherto. 

Hot-blooded,  hard,  lusting  for  power, 

Forsake  us  not  on  the  morrow. 

Overlook   them,  my  God,  or  hide  them,  till  past  is  the 

hour. 
Let  me  not  on  the  morrow  stand  in  Thy  way! 

Lord,  Thou  knowest  our  folk  to  its  innermost  being; 
Judge  I  awrong,  when  I  trust  in  its  noble  endowment? 
Hitherto  has  it  wasted  its  strength. 

Lord,  have  mercy !  When  shall  it  waken  in  strength  united  ? 
When  shall  my  work  have  fruition  ? 

Violent  hewed  I  my  path;  but  my  thought  was: 

Sharp  must  the  blows  be  that  fall  on  the  forest  primeval, 


8o  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

On  trees  with  their  hundreds,  rocks  with  their  thousands 

of  years, 
Ere  the  field  may  be  cleared  for  the  seed, 
Seed  planted  by  love. 

This  is  my  thought,  in  sooth,  and  I  rejoice 

That  the  people  now  gather  to  battle,  come  in  their  fury, 

—  Come  to  join  issue  with  Thee! 

Battle  shalt  Thou  have;  for  sparks  from  the  steel  bright 

flying 
Kindle  Thy  fire,  consuming  things  rotten,  and  lighting 
The  world  in  the  coming  years. 
Drive  them  to  battle,  with  zeal  my  heart  is  flaming, 
Cast  me  upon  the  pyre,  if  thereby  may  the  future  races 

be  lit! 

Take  to  Thy  clasp 

That  which  perchance  I  yield  up  to-morrow; 

Grant  that  my  son 

Foothold  may  find  where  I  slipped! 


TWELFTH  SONG 

THE  ARMY  AWAKENS 

U  p,  my  warriors,  to  prayer, 

The  sun  is  calling. 

Greeting  the  chosen  band 

Which  the  Lord  this  day 

Leads  forth  to  battle. 

Tormod  Kolbrunarskald, 

Lift  up  thy  voice, 

Build  for  the  people  a  shining  bridge 

Stretching  from  peak  to  peak, 

Build  with  thy  lay 

High  over  us  and  the  vale 

Visions  in  marching  array 

Of  our  forefathers  forth-faring 

To  fight." 

Tormod  rose  to  his  feet. 
Heeding  the  call, 
Drove  in  a  rustling  flight 
Out  over  the  sleeping  host 
Bjarkemaal's  battle-clad  maidens, 
The  air  was  filled  with  their  spears, 
In  the  sunshine  they  glittered  and  rang. 
At  the  sound  of  his  lay: 

"Day  is  come  up  again. 
Din  the  cock's  feathers; 


82  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Time,  sons  of  trouble, 
The  toil  to  be  winning. 
Wake  aye,  and  wake  aye, 
Heads  of  the  friend-folk! 
All  ye  of  the  foremost 
Fellows  of  Adils. 

"High,  the  hard-gripping 
Hrolf  of  the  shooting. 
Kin-worthy  men 
Who  will  not  of  fleeing. 
To  wine  naught  I  wake  you. 
Nor  whispers  of  women; 
But  up  do  I  wake  you 
To  Hilda's  hard  play." 

Stave  after  stave  he  sang  it. 
Soon  was  there  turbulent  life 
Throughout  the  awakened  camp; 
Coldly  the  landscape  gleamed, 
Autumn-clear  was  the  air. 
The  river  flowed  on  in  the  sun, 
The  woods  with  color  were  lit.  .  .  , 
Beat  then  as  one 

Hearts  that  were  longing  for  home. 
To  fight  for  the  land  beloved. 
Fight  for  a  king  so  dear, 
Fight  against  Odin,  his  wiles. 


THE  ARMY  AWAKENS  83 

E'en  as  in  the  songs  of  old, 
To  this  were  they  spurred. 

The  King  a  ring  from  his  arm 

To  Tormod  then 

Gave  as  a  gift  with  his  thanks. 

Then  swore 

Tormod  an  oath  to  his  liege 

That  he  in  life  as  in  death 

Would  follow 

Wherever  King  Olaf  might  lead. 

Then  in  banter  he  said : 
"Sighvat,  thy  skald, 

No  longer  with  golden  hilt 

Shall  keep  thee  apart  from  me." 

Him  the  King  answered: 
"Certainly  Sighvat  this  day 

In  Jorsal  is  praying  for  us." 

Tormod  then  laughed : 
"Scant  were  the  guard  of  thy  banner, 

Were  we  to  Jorsal  marching 

This  day." 

Turned  then  the  King  aside. 

Spoke  to  his  followers: 
*'  Pray  must  we  all  this  day. 

Confessing  our  sins  to  God, 

Single  of  purpose. 

United  with  Him  in  the  glorious  cause."  — 


84  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Mighty  he  stood  on  a  mound, 

Beheld  of  all. 

The  bishop  arose, 

Then  before  all  the  host 

Fell  the  King  on  his  knees 

And  prayed. 

Humbly  confessed  he  his  sins. 

Was  heard,  and  upon  him  then 

Was  absolution  bestowed. 

When  he  rose  up, 

The  light  of  redeeming  grace 

Shone  from  his  visage. 

Before  his  face  like  the  sun 

His  followers  fell  on  their  knees. 

Commended  their  souls  unto  God, 

Prayed  and  confessed. 

In  secret  vowed  to  the  King 

Their  faith,  and  arose. 

Joined  in  the  mass,  intoned 

In  the  dewy  cool  of  the  morn. 

Felt  themselves  cleansed. 

As  a  bird  that  springs  from  his  bath, 

And  sings. 

Then  went  they  on. 

Pushing  aside  the  branches 

Wet  from  the  night. 

Beasts  were  flushed, 

And  birds  flew  screaming  about. 

Deep  in  the  woods. 


THE  ARMY  AWAKENS  85 

Gleamed  through  the  sparkling  leaves 

A  helmet  now, 

Now  a  spear  or  a  shield, 

The  watchful  spies  of  the  foe 

Found  they  concealed. 

Then  was  there  war-cry  and  leaping, 

Arrows  rang  on  the  tree-trunks, 

Branches  were  broken,  and  in. 

Forcing  the  densest  thickets, 

Or  over  the  sodden  marsh. 

Onward, 

Every  man  they  surrounded. 

Hewing  him  down, 

Resuming  their  march  in  peace. 

When  they  broke  forth  from  the  forest, 

Wet,  but  spirited, 

Stiklestad  lay 

Before  their  view. 

Raised  on  a  height  in  the  sunshine. 

Mighty  and  broad, 

Was  Vaerdalen's  noblest  farmstead. 

Pearled  with  dew  were  the  fields. 

Tethered  horses 

Stood  on  the  glistening  stubble. 

At  the  side 

Were  the  great  houses, 

Undivided  and  stoneless 

Stretched  the  lush  meadow. 


86  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

The  forest  around 

Crept  up  close, 

Protection  offering! 

But  by  the  height  whereupon 

Stiklestad  lay 

Wide-spread  the  valley  bore 

On  its  bosom  ripening  grain, 

Coppice  and  house. 

Off"  by  the  dark-blue  fjord 

The  hills  gave  vi^ay. 

The  woods  as  well, 

The  river  wound 

Its  course  through  the  fields  and  the  mead, 

Slow-flowing  and  wide. 

Peace  reigned  supreme. 

But  from  the  fjord,  in  the  distance, 

Came  the  enemy. 

Dismounted  the  King. 

Round  about  Stiklestad's  height 

Should  his  host 

The  power  of  the  foe  await. 

Gathered  quickly  the  chiefs, 

Each  took  his  place, 

To  each  came  a  strengthening  word. 

Mounted  the  King  then  a  wall, 

Spoke  to  his  army — 

For  the  last  time. 


THE  ARMY  AWAKENS  87 

On  the  forest  side 

Of  the  mound  it  stood, 

Head  close  to  head; 

Marking  each  word; 

So  still 

Was  it,  the  birds  on  the  boughs 

Renewed  their  song. 

"Faithful  men. 
Here  is  our  goal. 
Here  will  I  conquer  this  day, 
Or  be  borne  to  rest 
On  the  Saviour's  breast. 
What  I  now  say  to  you,  hear: 
Be  without  fear. 
The  Lord  is  with  us  this  day. 
His  way 

Surely  to  triumph  shall  lead. 
If  to  death  on  the  field  ye  bleed,     • 
Fear  ye  then  naught, 
Rest  in  the  thought. 
If  ye  of  strength  be  bare. 
His  care 

Protects  you  even  in  death. 
Ye  are  the  seed,  here  He  saith. 
The  word  to  have  birth 
Must  be  buried  in  earth. 
Blood-watered  the  root 
Alone  bears  fruit. 


88  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Wait  for  the  spring  ye  may.  , 
Re-born  is  Norway  this  day ! 


"The  Lord,  whose  will  be  done, 
Chooses  us,  one  by  one. 
Of  the  death  of  some  He  is  fain, 
Others  shall  ripen  to  grain. 
Thus  will  He  sow 
That  once  again  He  may  grow 
Seed-corn  to  sow  anew 
In  lands  He  must  yet  subdue. 
To  Him  time  and  place  are  known, 
We  only  are  shown. 
That  what  He  sows  now  in  sorrow 
Will  smile  on  the  morrow. 

*' Faithful  men. 
Ye  who  cast  in  your  lot  with  me 
What  time  He 

Willed  that  our  courage  should  be  tried. 
The  test  now  abide ! 
When  from  us  He  took  the  sword^ 
We  bowed  to  His  word, 
Jll  shalt  thou  for  Him  forsake, — 
And  joyous  the  burden  bore. 
Until  He  came 

In  our  banishment's  bitter  shame  .  .  . 
Called  for  our  help.  We  await 
Here  on  this  field  our  fate! 


THE  ARMY  AWAKENS 

Whether  for  loss  of  our  land  we  grieve, 
Or  whether  we  win  it  again,  we  believe: 
We  are  His  chosen,  our  strength  renewing, 
Still  under  His  banner  the  goal  pursuing. 

"I  thank  ye  that  joined  my  command 
But  lately,  that  now  ye  stand 
Where  our  hope  is  more  forlorn! 
Oh,  on  this  morn. 
Let  us  the  Lord  beseech 
That  in  the  battle's  breach 
The  land  of  our  fathers  may  claim 
Men  of  the  loftier  aim. 
With  hopes  not  all  by  victory  testing, 
But  resting 

Where  in  vision  they  see 
All  the  years  to  be." 


THIRTEENTH  SONG 

THE  COMING  OF  ARNLJOT 

1  HROUGH  the  sea  of  people, 
To  the  King's  circle  guarded, 
Strode  a  man  gold-helmeted, 
Clad  in  cuirass  and  mail-hose. 
Slowly  approached  the  royal  presence. 

Spear  in  hand  silver-hiked, 
Sword  for  the  mightiest  only, 
Shield  hooked  upon  his  shoulder. 
Shining  his  weapons  and  armor. 
Gleaming  his  eye  on  the  King  rested. 

Richly  the  hair  round  the  helmet 
Fell  all  about  his  shoulders; 
Noble  and  open  his  visage, 
Proud  was  his  chieftain  bearing. 
Toward  him  turned  the  King's  guard  at 
his  coming. 

All  of  the  host  could  reckon 
None  that  might  reach  his  shoulder. 
Up  they  looked  with  wonder, 
Shrank  aside  as  he  passed  them. 
Halted  he  there  in  the  King's  presence. 


THE  COMING  OF  ARNLJOT  91 

"  Greetings,  people-leader, 
Here  at  thy  feet  I  bow  me, 
Give  myself  wholly  to  thee. 
Be  of  my  gift  not  scornful, 
Late  though  and  single  to  thee  my  coming." 

The  King  smiled,  saying: 
"Art  thou  not  Arnljot  Gelline? 
From  thee  a  gift  and  a  message 
Got  I  of  them  thou  didst  rescue. 
Waited  have  I  long  for  thy  coming." 

Arnljot  the  King  then  answered: 
*' Nowise  found  I  an  errand. 
Nor  to  me  clear  was  the  pathway, 
Till  I  in  a  vision  beheld  thee 
Pass  me  by  as  a  light  from  eastward." 

The  King  smiled,  saying; 
"Comest  thou  now  to  baptism, 
Of  thine  own  strength  grown  weary, 
Northland's  mightiest  warrior. 
Fair  indeed  to  me  is  the  omen." 

Arnljot  the  King  then  answered : 
*'Nay,  I  come  to  thee  only. 
Thou^  King,  ownest  my  service, 
Thee  alone  will  I  believe  in. 
Broken  is  all  that  to  now  hath  upborne  me." 


92  ARNLJOT  GRLLINE 

The  King  smiled,  saying: 
"I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ!" 

Arnljot  the  King  then  answered: 
"That  shall  do  naught  to  divide  us-, 

In  whom  thou  believest,  believe  I  also." 

The  King  smiled,  saying: 
*'Thou  that  camest  to  me  latest. 
Thou  shalt  stand  first  on  the  morrow, 
In  the  van  of  my  royal  standard!" 
Arnljot  arose  to  his  feet  then,  saying: 

"The  years  that  have  sped  are  thirty 
Since  Vikar,  my  only  brother, 
Stood  in  the  van  at  Svolder, 
Olaf  thy  kinsman  defending. 
First  of  his  men  to  fall  there,  was  Vikar."  — 

All  of  the  body-guard  raised  then 

Marvelling  outcry,  recalling 

To  mind  the  race  and  its  fortunes; 

Perceiving  in  Vikar's  ending 

The  death  foreshadowed  that  Arnljot  craved  for. 

While  now  the  host  of  the  foeman 
Ranged  itself  in  the  distance, 
Pious  the  King  held  discourse 
Life  and  death  concerning. 
Wondrous  things  met  Arnljot's  vision. 


THE  COMING  OF  ARNLJOT  93 

There  for  him  were  answered 
All  of  the  thousand  questions; 
There  his  life  was  transfigured, 
Raised  to  the  sunlit  uplands, 
Dawned  then  the  day  of  his  longings. 

And  while  the  host  of  the  foeman 
Ranged  itself  in  the  distance, 
Baptized  was  Arnljot  Gelline, 
Served  him  the  King  as  sponsor. 
And  all  the  assembled  chieftains. 

Fared  then  Arnljot  Gelline 
To  the  van  of  the  royal  army. 
Where  forward  yon  on  the  hillside 
Torodd  bore  the  King's  banner. 
Took  he  his  stand  before  it. 

Spear  in  hand  silver-hiked, 
Sword  for  the  mightiest  only, 
Shield  hooked  upon  his  shoulder. 
Shining  his  weapons  and  armor, 
Gleaming  his  eye  on  the  foe  rested. 

Stood  by  the  banner  behind  him 
Tore  and  Afrafaste: 
On  him  they  gazed  in  wonder. 
They  and  their  men  loud  hailed  him: 
"Fight  we  again  beside  our  chieftain!" 


94  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Those  who  came  onward  to  meet  them, 
First  of  all  saw  Arnljot, 
In  the  midst  of  his  fur-clad  following, 
Towering  o'er  them  and  shining, 
Leading  to  battle  the  vanguard. 


FOURTEENTH  SONG 

THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD 

I  HE  King  down  set  him, 
His  guards  around  him, 
The  foe  awaiting 
In  calm. 

The  King  his  head  rested 
Upon  Finn  Arnesson, 
Sank  at  once  into  slumber. 
And  saw 

Bright  and  wonderful  visions 
Wavering  in  the  heavens. 
Saw  the  Lord's  host  angelic 
In  the  sun. 

Building  out  of  the  sunbeams 
A  bridge,  upward  arching 
Straight  from  the  plain  terrestrial 
To  God, 

The  King  bore  they  with  them. 
Light  as  air  uplifted 
As  on  the  wings  of  longing 
To  the  light, 
Up  the  eifulgent  ladder 
Mounted  he  to  heaven, 
Through  the  infinite  spaces. 
Toward  God. 

Brighter  grew  the  sunbeams. 
Multiplied  the  angels. 


96  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Songs  came  to  his  hearing 

From  God. 

Many,  many  worlds 

Onward  were  pressing, 

For  a  station  straining 

Near  God. 

And  when  they  attained  it, 

Vaster  the  space  was 

Than  all  the  thronging  worlds 

They  passed. 

Praise-songs  were  sunbeams, 

Sunbeams  were  praise-songs, 

World  without  end  rising 

To  God. 

"  King,  get  thee  up ! 
Near  is  the  foe. 
Wood  and  dale  he  fills 
With  a  mighty  host." 

Finn  it  was  who  spoke  then. 
The  King  him  answered: 
"Ah,  thou  shouldst  have  waited 
Yet  a  while. 

The  Lord  to  my  gaze  now 
His  face  was  revealing. 
In  that  flaming  glory 
I  trembled." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  97 

Finn  answered:  "Soon  thou  mayest 
Gaze  on  the  Lord, 
Get  thee  up,  and  thou  gazest 
On  death!" 

The  foeman's  army 

Itself  bestirred, 

Filled  all  the  plain, 

Poured  from  the  forest. 

Ranged  itself. 

Down  by  the  hillside. 

Not  an  arrow-shot's 

Distance  they  stood. 

Many  warriors 

The  King  knew. 

And  with  sorrow 

Friends  from  of  old. 

The  King  knew 

Kalv  Arnesson, 

Thus  to  him  spoke: 
"Castest  thou  spear-flight 

Upon  my  army? 

Thus  was  it  not 

When  last  we  parted 

Southward  at  More. 

Kin  hast  thou  with  me. 

And  four  of  thy  brothers." 

Answered  then  Kalv: 
"What  time  thou  didst  leave  us, 


98  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Got  we  a  greater, 
Where  we  stand 
We  are  fixed. 
Me  had  it  vantaged, 
Were  I  with  thee." 
Said  then  Finn, 
Fourth  of  his  brothers : 

"That  was  Kalv  — 
Fairest  of  speech, 
Worst  in  his  thought." 
Torgeir  of  Kvistad 
Made  despiteful 
Speech  to  the  King: 

"Now  shalt  thou  win 
The  peace  we  won 
Before,  when  we  had  thee 
For  our  chieftain." 
The  King  him  answered: 

"Indeed  I  blundered 
What  time  I  showed  thee 
The  path  of  glory. 
But  of  thy  course 
Here  and  this  day 
Be  silent: 
Within  one  hour 
Diest  thou!" 
Shone  the  King's  visage 
While  thus  he  was  speaking. 
Seemed  far  more  imposing 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  99 

Than  before. 

His  eyes  like  lightning-flashes 

Struck,  where  he  turned  them ; 

Knew  him  the  bonders 

And  flinched. 
"On,  on,  King's  men, 

Cross-men  and  Christ-men!" 

Shouted  he,  and  the  army 

Rushed  forward. 

As  when  the  freshet 

Bursts  in  the  springtime. 

Over  the  hillside 

They  surged. 

Trumpet-notes,  war-cries. 

Flashing  of  weapons. 

Banners  uplifted  — 
"On,  on! 

Press  on,  King's  men. 

Cut  down  the  bonders!" 

Heard  they,  then  bore  down 

The  foe. 

Pressed  them  retreating 

Until  the  foremost 

Stood  where  the  hindmost 

Stood  before. 

First  of  all  Arnljot, 

lamtland's  chieftain, 

Afrafaste,  Tore, 

Beside  him. 


loo  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Ne'er  was  the  mightiest 

Warrior  so  joyful  as 

The  fur-clad  outlaws 

Now  were: 

Ne'er  with  maiden  dancing 

Around  the  midnight  fire, 

Ne'er  the  festal  mead-horn 

And  song 

Had  been  to  them  like  this; 

War-cries  fired  them, 

They  smote  in  measure 

Therewith. 

'T  was  as  if  honoring 

Those  whom  they  smote, 

For  in  the  King's  presence 

They  fought. 

No  more  were  remembered 

Or  mass  or  baptism, 

Themselves  they  baptized  now. 

And  sang. 

Arnljot  in  the  van  saw  they 

As  in  mist  half-shrouded, 

Mountain-huge  looming 

He  stood. 

His  right  hand  the  sword  swung, 

The  spear  with  his  left  hand, 

Roar  and  tumult  of  battle 

Around. 

Truly  this  was  the  first  time 


THE   BATTLE   OF  STIKLESTAD  loi 

In  all  his  life  that  had  found  him 

In  his  deeds  rejoicing 

And  laughing. 

His  way  lay  clear  before  him, 

As  up  a  sunlit  mountain, 

All  about  him  glitter 

And  song. 

Felt  he  as  by  invisible 

Hands  were  he  upborne, 

With  every  blow  still  higher 

He  rose. 

Until  the  peak  attaining. 

Beaming  upon  him. 

Gently  smiling  saw  he 

A  maid. 

Ingigerd  was  the  vision ; 

'Mid  a  host  of  angels. 

In  fleecy-white  cloud  garments 

She  stood, 

Smiled  on  him,  down-reaching 

Snow-white  hands  to  greet  him.  .  .  . 

Then  almost  with  longing 

He  swooned. 

But  once  more  collected 

Were  his  thoughts — and  nothing 

Saw  he,  save  the  battle 

He  fought. 

Heard  he  nothing  either, 

Save  the  cries  of  the  conflict, 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

All  the  host  victorious 

Shouted. 

For  in  flight  the  foemen 

Fell  back  distracted, 

Stricken  with  terror 

Each  one. 

In  the  arch  of  heaven 

Blood-red  the  sun  shone, 

All  the  earth  beneath  it 

Blood-red. 

Forests  and  meadows. 

The  sands  and  the  river. 

All  the  men's  f'aces, 

Blood-red. 

Blood-tinged  were  the  farmsteads, 

The  corn-fields  golden, 

The  King's  white  banner, 

Blood-red. 

From  on  high  an  omen 

To  their  seeming, 

Wrathful  fought  against  them 

Olafs  God. 

Fled  all  the  stricken 

Out  toward  the  forest. 

Sought  there  to  hide  them 

From  God. 

Filled  with  dark  terror 

Wide  they  were  scattered. 

Recognize  they  could  not 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  103 

Their  own, 

Paths  they  hewed  fleeing 
Among  their  companions, 
Cowards  felled  brave  men 
Through  fear. 

Hard  by  the  wood-side 

One  man  bided. 

Tore  Hund. 

Held  he  by  witchcraft 

His  men  together. 

The  battle-line  saw  he 

Over  the  meadow 

Writhe  like  a  snake  in 

The  fire, 

Drawing  together. 

Twisting  and  breaking 

In  pieces. 

Disgorging 

Its  bowels; 

Into  the  forest 

Spilled  they. 

Fled  they  all  of  them 

Thither! 

Darkened  then  slowly 

The  sun  in  that  hour. 

Mid-day  was  almost 

As  autumn's  midnight, 

Home  went  the  cattle. 


I04  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

The  barn-yard  fowl  silent 
Gat  them  to  roost, 
Tempest  there  was  not. 
Nor  gusts  of  wind, 
Dulled  into  quiet 
Were  all, 

Only  the  men  went  on 
Slaying. 

Then  a  madness 

Seized  on  Tore, 

The  gods  were  fighting 

The  battle  of  men. 

The  ancient  gods 

Against  the  new. 

The  new  times  threatened 

The  olden  days, 

The  sea  of  hell 

Or  of  Ragnarok 

O'erwhelming  rose, 
Thor  and  Odin 

Or  Christus; 

Æsir  and  goddesses 

Or  angels. 

Overthrew,  fell 

Struggling 

In  the  world-downfall's 

Ginnunga-gap. 

To  his  mind 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  105 

Blindly  groping, 

Wild  confusion 

Everywhere. 

As  his  thoughts  were, 

So  his  speech  was. 

Terrified  was  he 

By  all  about. 

The  gods  themselves, 

The  gods  were  the  combatants, 

Christus  and  Ymir, 

The  Lamb  and  Fenris, 

The  sun  and  the  dragon, 

Loki  and  Satan, 

All  in  the  reek  of 

The  flames  of  Nastrond. 

The  raving 

Wrought  them  up  to 

Berserk  fury; 

Once  more  rushed  they 

Back  to  the  field. 

Ended  the  world  now. 

They  with  it. 

Then  would  they  slaughter 

Ere  themselves  were  slaughtered. 

All  now  should  perish. 

Even  remembrance. 

Charged  them  the  King's  men. 
Few  'gainst  the  many. 


io6  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Calm  the  cross  under 
They  stood. 
The  sign  from  on  high 
Raised  up  their  courage; 
Heaven  itself  descended 
To  shield! 

All  toward  the  King  looked, 
Massed  them  together, 
For  a  sign  the  King  lifted 
His  sword: 
"On,  on,  King's  men. 
Cross-men,  Christ-men!" 
Cut  throuo;h  the  darkness 
Like  fire. 

But  the  pack  of  Berserkers, 
Like  wolves  in  their  madness, 
Flung  themselves  all  shieldless 
Forward, 

Fell,  while  others  followed. 
Slew,  were  slain  also. 
Furious  over  the  corpses 
They  leaped. 

Made  themselves  a  death-track. 
More  not  demanding, 
Fell,  but  ever  others 
Came  on. 

The  King's  little  army 
Lessened  drew  together. 
Too  great  were  their  losses 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  107 

To  bear. 

Arnljot  in  the  forefront 

Stout  them  defended, 

Every  foeman  nearing 

He  felled; 

But  too  sharply  cleft  he 

The  billowing  warriors, 

And  from  his  own  was  parted 

At  last. 

Over  the  heads  of  the  multitude 

Alone  he  towered. 

As  at  the  Thing  of  the  lamtlanders 

That  night.  .  .  . 

But  not  now  demanding 

Mulct  for  his  father, 

Not  now  seeking 

His  bride. 

For  himself  no  purpose 

In  the  world  remaining. 

Only  this — to  perish 

For  him 

Who  had  reft  his  spirit 

From  its  empty  striving, 

Given  him  a  single 

Day. 

Sword  in  right  hand  swinging. 

In  his  left  a  spear-shaft, 

Like  a  god  in  the  grove 

He  stood. 


io8  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Cleared  he  the  ring  around  him, 

Corpses  up-piling, 

Till  with  spears  they  circled 

Him  round. 

And  when  now  all  of  them 

Gathered  about  him. 

When  grew  too  fierce  for  him 

The  press. 

The  threatening  spear-points 

Upon  him  closing, — 

Beseemed  him  the  circle 

Was  forced. 

Beseemed  him  that  thousands 

Gathered  to  guard  him. 

Beseemed  him  a  shield-wall 

Was  lowered. 

Beseemed  him  that  shining 

And  steel-clad  a  cohort 

Swept  forward  and  lifted 

Him  up. 

Fair  white  spirits 

Felt  he  embracing, 

Saving  to  bear  him 

Away. 

Blissfully  singing 

On  a  sun-kissed  mountain, 

There  saw  he  Ingigerd 

Stand. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  109 

Fallen  was  Arnljot, 
The  mountain  eagle, 
Shot  on  the  plain. 
Warm  he  bereft  was 
Of  golden  feathers. 
Trampled  and  trailed. 
Of  all  of  the  soaring 
Flight  of  his  life 
This  was  the  outcome. 
Sayeth  the  saga: 
Aimed  had  he  ever 
At  the  highest; 
When  once  he  saw  it, 
He  gave  himself  wholly. 

On  the  battle 
Furious  raged. 
Berserker  courage 
Broke  like  a  storm 
The  stout  defenders. 
Felled  was  the  trunk 
That  upheld  them. 
Soon  fell  Tore, 
Afrafaste, 
And  their  men. 
All  of  the  valiant 
Vanguard. 

None  had  known  them 
Before  this  day. 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

None  sought  for  them 

The  day  after. 

Only  the  corpses 

On  which  they  lay 

Knew  they  had  been. 

Long  and  lawless 

The  course  of  their  life; 

One  faithful  hour 

Redeemed  it. 

The  font  baptismal 

The  Saviour  offered, 

With  their  own  warm  blood 

They  filled. 

Therein  they  plunged. 

Therefrom  they  rose, 

Mercy  beseeching. 

The  King  behind  a  shield-wall 
Hitherto  had  battled, 
Now  he  bade  it  open, 
Went  forth: 
"Follow  me  now,  comrades. 
The  Lord  will  guard 
Of  his  own  the  banner 
This  day ! " 

When  the  ring  was  opened, 
Stood  he  out  illumined 
'Mid  the  thick  darkness 
Around. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  m 

When  he  met  the  foemen, 

Shrank  they  back  in  wonder, 

Long  while  no  one  lifted 

A  hand. 

Torgeir  of  Kvistad 

Struck  he  down,  saying: 
"Recallest  how  I  forecast 

Thy  death  ? " 

Oiaf,  son  of  Arngrim, 

Struck  he  down,  saying: 
"  Wrong  thy  reckoning,  Olaf, 

This  day." 

Tore  Hund  of  Bjarkoi 

Smote  he  —  but  the  sword-stroke 

Bit  not  through  his  troll-fur. 

But  slipped. 
"Thou,  Bjorn,  smite  the  dog  down 

Who  dulls  my  sword-edge!" 

Bjorn  with  battle-hammer 

Him  smote. 

Tore  Hund  then  fell  not, 

Rested  a  moment. 

Then  with  his  long  spear 

Pierced  Bjorn : 
"Thus  slay  we  bears 

Up  north  in  Finmark!" 

At  the  King's  feet  then 

Fell  Bjorn, 

Then  his  great  eyes 


ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

To  the  King  uplifted, 
Melancholy  no  longer, 
But  peaceful. 
There  fell  also  Gissur, 
Skald  of  the  golden  eyebrows. 
And  beside  him  Torfinn, 
He  sang: 
"Now  my  best  lay  to  thee. 
King,  have  I  given, 
Red  now  it  praises 
Thy  name," 
There  was  also  Tormod 
Fatally  wounded. 
With  a  spear  transfixing 
His  breast. 

Broke  he  the  shaft  of  it, 
Dared  not  draw  forth  the  point 
To  his  heart  piercing; 
For  look: 

The  King  was  in  danger! 
Forward  leaped  Tormod, 
With  his  sword  cleaving 
A  way. 

From  the  King  now  parted. 
Forced  himself  Tormod, 
Bleeding  and  trembling, 
Forward, 

Found  the  King  death-weary 
O'er  a  rock  bending. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STIKLESTAD  113 

Saw  Tore  Hund  dealing 
Him  wounds, 
Saw  Kalv  of  Egge 
Likewise  doing. 
Saw  the  King  smiling, 
As  he  fell. 

Cried  he  then  to  heaven: 
"Lord,  dost  Thou  will  it? 
Well,  then  will  I  follow 
His  steps!" 

Then  he  his  sword-hilt 
With  both  his  hands  grasping 
Drove  home,  and  sank  weary 
To  rest. 

All  the  others  then  with  him, 
Finn  and  his  brothers, 
All  the  King's  friends  sank 
To  rest. 

Hewed  they  all  of  them 
Still  at  the  foeman, 
Hewed,  and  sank  weary 
To  rest. 

Wholly  the  sun  went  out. 
Night  wept  from  heaven. 
In  darkness  was  shrouded 
The  earth. 
Yet  was  it  but  little 
Later  than  mid-day. 
The  warriors  now  shuddered 


114  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Themselves. 

They  who  had  triumphed, 

Stood  now  as  defeated, 

Terrified  staring 

Into  the  night. 


FIFTEENTH  SONG 

THE  NIGHT  AFTER 

It  was  midnight,  Tore  Hund 
Sat  on  a  rock  by  the  King's  body ; 
Even  then  the  limbs  he  had  straightened. 
The  King's  blood 
Burned  his  hand. 

The  King's  blood  his  wounded  hand 
Straightway  had  healed,  when  he  touched  it. 
Quiet  sat  Tore,  deeply  musing; 
Groaned  at  times 
With  remorse. 

Round  about  the  field  were  lights; 

Wives  and  mothers  their  own  were  seeking; 

Here  were  the  sobs  and  groans  of  the  wounded, 

Yonder  a  dog's 

Long  lament. 

Lines  of  the  battle  were  clearly  marked. 

In  the  dark  lay  heaps  of  corpses. 

The  friend  was  plucked  from  among  the  strangers ; 

Tender  hands 

Bore  him  home. 

On  the  farmsteads  round  about. 

Lights  were  gleaming  from  barns  and  houses. 


ii6  ARNLJOT  GELLINE 

Wherever  the  wounded  had  crept  for  shelter, 
Women's  hands 
Succored  them. 

Among  the  men  who  the  corpses  scanned 
Was  Kalv  Arnesson;  his  brothers 
Found  he  alive.  But  they  would  not 
Aid  accept 
From  his  hand. 

Kalv  came  up  where  Tore  sat. 

Lingering  stood  there,  nothing  saying. 
"Here  the  King  lies,"  whispered  Tore; 
"The  King's  blood 

Healed  my  wound." 

Held  he  his  hand  up  in  sight  of  Kalv. 
Kalv  said  naught,  away  from  him  turning. 
Then  saw  he  Arnljot,  stretched  out  before  him, 
The  King's  body 
Lay  on  his. 

"  Great  is  the  honor  thou  dost  the  King 
Thus  to  rest  him  upon  a  robber." 
Tore  uprose  then:  "Was  he  a  robber?  — 
Yet  in  faith 
He  served  the  Kine," 


THE  NIGHT  AFTER  117 

Careful  the  twain  laid  hands  on  the  King; 
Raised  him  up,  and  quiet  held  him, 
While  with  their  feet  they  Arnljot's  body 
Kicked  aside, 
Long  and  stiff. 

But  when  Arnljot  was  turned  face  up, 
Saw  they  his  open  eyes  gaze  smiling 
Up  to  heaven;  the  smile  remained  him 
From  that  last 
Vision  he  saw. 

"The  robber  laughs,"  Kalv  remarked. 

Said  Tore,  the  King  on  his  arm  supporting: 
"Perchance  on  the  right  side  he  sees  himself 
now."  .  .  . 

Silent  departed 

Kalv  as  he  came. 


NOTES 

The  extracts  given  from  the  Saga  of  Olaf  the  Holy  in  these  Notes 
are  from  the  translation  by  William  Morris  and  Eir  ikr  Magnus- 
son  in  Volume  Four  of  *'  The  Saga  Library." 

Page  3.  The  Ski-Journey. 

The  historical  basis  of  this  story  is  provided  by  Chapter  151  of  the  Saga 
of  Olaf  the  Holy,  in  the  Heimskringla  of  Snorri  Sturluson.  lamtland 
(Jæmtland)  is  a  province  of  Sweden  lying  just  east  of  the  Norwegian 
mountain-wall  in  about  the  latitude  ot  Throndhjem.  The  Saga  reads  : 
"Ketil  lamti  hight  a  man, the  son  of  Earl  Onund  of  Spareby  in  Thrand- 
heim.  He  had  fled  before  King  Eystein  the  Evil-minded  east  over  the 
Keel.  He  cleared  the  woods  and  built  there  whereas  it  is  now  called 
lamtland."  The  lamtlanders  for  a  time  recognized  the  King  of  Nor- 
way as  their  liege,  and  paid  him  tribute,  being  themselves  of  Norwe- 
gian descent.  But  at  the  date  of  The  Ski-Journey  (1027  ?),  "they  had 
made  up  their  mind  that  they  would  yield  obedience  to  the  King  of 
Sweden."  King  Olaf  of  Norway,  however,  still  claimed  the  right  to  tax 
the  lamtlanders,  and  sent  twelve  messengers  to  make  the  collection. 
When  these  messengers  arrived  in  lamtland,  a  Thing  was  summoned. 
The  people  "  were  all  of  one  mind  on  this,  that  they  would  not  pay 
scat  to  the  King  of  Norway.  The  messengers  some  would  have  hanged, 
and  others  would  have  them  for  blood-offering.  But  it  was  settled  that 
they  should  be  held  there  until  the  bailiffs  of  the  Swede-king  should 
be  coming,  and  these  should  determine  concerning  them  what  they 
would,  by  the  counsel  of  the  folk  of  the  country;  but  that  they  should 
make  a  show  of  this,  that  the  messengers  being  well-holden,  they  were 
tarried  for  their  abiding  the  scat,  and  they  should  part  them  and  quarter 
them  two  and  two  together."  Thorod,  their  leader,  with  another  of  the 
messengers,  was  quartered  with  Thorar,  the  Law-man,  and  one  even- 
ing, when  "the  ale  spake  in  the  lamts,"  these  captives  learned  for  what 
purpose  they  were  being  held,  and  soon  thereafter  made  their  escape. 
One  night  they  sought  shelter  in  "a  little  homestead,"  were  hospitably 
welcomed,  and  "laid  them  down  to  sleep."  The  rest  of  the  story,  as 
related  in  the  Saga,  is  as  follows : 

"That  while  the  fire  was  yet  aflame.  Thorod  then  saw  that  from 
another  chamber  came  forth  a  man,  and  never  had  he  seen  a  man  like 
big.  That  man  had  on  raiment  of  gold-broidered  scarlet,  and  was  of 


120  NOTES 

the  gooilliest  to  behold.  Thorod  heard  that  he  blamed  them  for  taking 
guests,  when  they  had  scarce  meat  enough  to  bless  themselves  withal. 
The  housewife  said:  'Be  not  wroth, brother, seldom  doth  such  a  chance 
befall:  do  them  rather  something  that  may  be  to  their  profit,  for  thou 
art  handier  thereto  than  we  be.' 

"Thorod  heard  that  the  big  man  was  named  Arnljot  Gelline,  and 
that  the  goodwife  was  his  sister.  Thorod  had  heard  tell  of  Arnljot,  and 
of  this,  moreover,  that  he  was  the  greatest  way-besetter  and  evildoer. 

"So  Thorod  and  his  man  slept  night  over,  tor  they  were  weary  afore 
of  their  much  walking.  But  when  about  one-third  of  the  night  was  still 
left,  thither  came  Arnljot  and  bade  them  stand  up  and  array  them  for 
their  journey.  So  Thorod  and  his  man  stood  up  and  arrayed  them,  and 
breakfast  was  served  them.  Then  Thorir  [their  host]  gave  snow-shoes 
to  either  of  them,  and  Arnljot  betook  himself  to  faring  with  them,  and 
strode  on  the  snow-shoes,  which  were  both  broad  and  long.  But  so  soon 
as  Arnljot  plied  his  staff,  he  was  off  and  afar  from  them.  Then  abided 
he,  and  said  that  in  this  wise  they  would  get  no-whither,  and  bade  them 
step  on  the  snow-shoes  along  with  him  ;  and  so  did  they;  and  Thorod 
stood  next  to  Arnljot  and  held  by  his  belt,  while  Thorod's  fellow  held 
on  to  him.  Then  Arnljot  slid  on  as  fast  as  if  he  were  faring  loose. 

"Now  when  one-third  of  the  night  was  spent,  they  came  to  a  certain 
hostel,  and  made  fire  there,  and  dight  their  meat.  But  whenas  they  were 
at  meat  then  spake  Arnljot,  and  bade  them  cast  down  nought  of  the 
meat,  neither  bone  nor  crumb.  Arnljot  took  out  of  his  sark  a  silver  dish, 
and  ate  therefrom.  But  when  they  were  full,  Arnljot  gathered  their 
leavings  together,  and  thereupon  they  got  ready  for  their  beds. 

"At  one  end  of  the  house  there  was  a  loft  on  the  tie-beams,  and  up 
into  that  loft  went  Arnljot  and  the  others,  and  there  they  laid  them 
down  to  sleep.  Arnljot  had  a  mickle  bill,  the  socket  thereof  was  gold- 
driven,  but  its  shaft  was  so  high  that  one's  hand  could  but  just  reach 
to  the  socket,  and  he  was  girt  with  a  sword  withal.  They  had  both 
weapons  and  raiment  up  there  in  the  loft  with  them. 

"Arnljot  bade  them  hold  their  peace.  He  lay  the  foremost  of  them 
in  the  loft. 

"A  little  while  afterwards  there  came  twelve  men  to  the  house  ;  they 
were  chapmen,  who  were  faring  to  lamtland  with  their  wares.  When 
they  came  into  the  house  they  made  mickle  din  about  there,  and  were 
very  merry,  and  they  made  them  big  fires.  But  when  they  had  their 
meat  they  cast  out  all  the  bones.  Thereafter  they  got  them  ready  for 
bed,  and  lay  down  on  a  settle  before  the  fire  there.  But  when  they  had 


NOTES  12  1 

sat  there  for  a  little  while  there  came  into  the  house  a  mickle  troll-wife ; 
and  whenas  she  came  in,  she  swept  up  fast,  and  took  the  bones  and  all 
things  she  deemed  good  to  eat  and  cast  them  into  her  mouth.  Then  she 
seized  the  man  that  lay  next  to  her,  and  tore  and  slit  him  all  asunder, 
and  cast  him  into  the  fire.  Then  awoke  the  others  to  an  evil  dream 
forsooth,  and  leapt  up.  But  she  sent  them  to  hell  one  after  other,  till 
only  one  was  left  alive;  and  he  rushed  up  the  floor  under  the  loft,  call- 
ing out  for  help  if  any  were  thereto  in  the  loft  who  might  be  of  avail 
to  him.  Arnljot  stretched  out  his  hand  for  him,  and  caught  him  by  the 
shoulder  and  drew  him  up  into  the  loft.  Then  she  ran  up  to  the  fire 
and  fell  to  eating  of  the  men,  those  who  were  roasted.  Then  stood 
Arnljot  up  and  gripped  his  bill,  and  thrust  it  between  her  shoulders  so 
that  the  point  ran  out  through  the  chest.  She  turned  her  hard  thereat 
and  cried  out  evilly  and  ran  out.  Arnljot  lost  the  hold  of  the  spear  and 
she  had  it  away  with  her.  Then  Arnljot  bestirred  himself  and  cleared 
out  the  bodies  of  the  men,  and  set  a  door  and  door-posts  before  the  hall, 
for  she  had  broken  it  all  loose  when  she  went  out. 

"And  now  they  slept  for  what  was  left  of  the  night.  But  when  day 
dawned,  they  stood  up  and  first  ate  their  day-meal ;  and  when  they 
had  eaten,  Arnljot  said  :  'Now  shall  we  part  here  :  ye  shall  follow  this 
sledge-road  whereby  the  merchants  fared  hither  yesterday;  but  I  will 
seek  my  spear.  For  my  wages  I  shall  take  what  I  deem  of  money's 
worth  among  the  chattels  which  these  men  owned.  But  thou,  Thorod, 
shalt  bear  my  greeting  to  King  Olaf,  and  tell  him  this,  that  he  is  the 
man  of  all  men  I  were  fainest  to  meet,  but  he  will  deem  my  greeting 
nothing  worth.* 

"Therewith  he  took  up  the  silver  dish  and  rubbed  it  with  a  cloth 
and  said  :  'Bring  this  dish  to  the  king  and  say  that  it  is  my  greeting.' 
Thereafter  either  of  them  got  ready  for  the  journey  and  parted,  even 
as  things  were.  And  Thorod  and  his  fellow,  and  the  man  withal  out 
of  the  company  of  the  merchants  who  had  escaped  alive,  went  each  his 
own  way,  and  Thorod  went  on  until  he  met  King  Olaf  in  Chippingham 
[Nidaros  =  Throndhjem],  when  he  told  him  all  about  his  journeys  and 
brought  him  the  greeting  of  Arnljot,  and  handed  over  to  him  the  silver 
dish.  The  king  says  that  it  was  ill  that  Arnljot  should  not  have  come 
to  see  him,  'and  it  is  a  great  scathe  that  so  good  a  fellow  and  a  man 
so  noteworthy  should  have  fallen  into  such  evil  ways.'"  (Chapter  151.) 

This  episode  marks  Arnljot 's  first  appearance  in  the  Saga  of  Olaf  the 
Holy.  He  does  not  appear  again  until  he  comes  to  offer  himself  to  the 
King  on  the  field  of  Stiklestad,  as  described  in  the  Thirteenth  Song 


122  NOTES 

of  Bjornson's  epic.  The  poet,  meanwhile,  gives  free  flight  to  his  ima- 
gination, building  upon  the  basis  of  these  scanty  materials  the  marvel- 
lous character-study  which  enthralls  us  in  our  reading  of  the  poem.  It 
will  be  noticed  that  in  one  respect  The  Ski-Journey  departs  from  the 
saga-narrative.  The  lamtlanders  who  intrude  upon  the  hut  in  which 
Arnljot  has  sought  shelter  for  the  night  are  represented  as  being  the 
pursuers  on  his  track  with  their  blood-hounds,  instead  of  being  the 
travelling  chapmen  of  the  saga. 

Page  7.  At  the  Winter-Thing. 

This  Song  was  written  in  Kristiania  in  the  winter  of  1859-60,  a  win- 
ter of  unusually  heavy  snows,  and  published  in  a  Danish  magazine  with 
the  understanding  that  it  was  a  fragment  of  a  greater  work  soon  to 
appear.  "It  portrays  the  unrest  and  ferment  that  stir  in  the  minds  of 
the  lamtlanders.  This  remote  forest  settlement  was  still  heathen,  but 
the  faith  in  the  old  gods  is  being  undermined,  and  reports  of  King 
Olaf's  introduction  of  Christianity  into  Norway  have  made  a  deep  im- 
pression upon  receptive  and  thoughtful  natures.  It  is  as  if  the  stormy 
winter  were  shaping  men's  minds  to  seriousness  of  thought.  The  gloomy 
clouds  of  winter  that  come  driving  from  Norway  and  settling  heavily 
over  the  lamtland  forest  'whisper  of  eternal  things.'  Thoughts  turn  to 
the  great  Fimbulwinter,  which,  according  to  the  old  faith,  should  be 
the  precursor  of  the  world's  destruction.  Minds  grow  tense  with  an- 
tlclpative  terror.  Even  Trand,  the  priest,  is  disturbed  by  the  new  ideas 
and  doubts  awakened  by  the  reports  of  King  Olaf's  crusade  in  Norway. 
He  knows  that  the  old  gods  must  sometime  be  overthrown,  that  Loki 
sometime  just  before  Ragnarok  shall  be  loosed  from  the  bonds  that  the 
gods  have  laid  upon  him,  and  with  all  the  giant-hosts  of  evil  shall  meet 
the  gods  in  a  decisive  battle.  But  he  knows  also  that  after  the  downfall 
of  the  gods,  'the  Mighty'  shall  come  from  on  high  and  create  a  new 
order.  May  Olaf's  god  be  'the  Mighty'  ?  At  times,  he  seeks  to  persuade 
himself  that  the  whole  matter  is  a  tissue  of  lies  and  witchcraft,  con- 
trived by  the  giants,  the  enemies  of  the  gods.  But  at  others,  it  seems 
to  him  the  beginning  of  the  end,  and  that  Loki  has  freed  himself.  He 
becomes  so  possessed  by  these  thoughts  that  in  his  dreams  he  sees  Olaf 
(Olaf  the  Big,  as  they  called  him  in  Sweden)  seated  in  the  place  of  Olaf 's 
image."  (J.  Morland.) 

Page  9.  Olaf  Digre. 
Olaf  the  Big. 


NOTES 


123 


Page  9.  Hoiv  nvorms  crwwled  out  of  the  rotten  •wood. 
After  a  battle  in  Gudbrandsdale,  a  Thing  was  summoned,  in  which 
Olaf  discussed  with  the  defeated  chieftain  the  merits  of  the  old  and  new 
religions.  On  the  third  day  of  this  meeting,  the  peasants  brought  with 
them  a  great  wooden  image  ot  their  god,  "a  mickle  man-shape  all 
gleaming  with  gold  and  silver."  Olafs  colloquy  with  the  chieftain  is 
thus  related  in  the  Saga: 

"Then  Gudbrand-a-Dales  stood  up  and  spake:  'Where  is  now  thy 
God,  king  ?  I  am  minded  to  think  now  that  somewhat  low  he  beareth 
his  chin-beard ;  and  It  seemeth  to  me  that  less  now  Is  the  swagger  of 
thee  and  of  the  horned  one  yonder  whom  thou  callest  a  bishop,  and 
that  sittest  there  beside  thee,  than  yesterday  it  was;  for  that  now  our 
god  is  come,  he  who  ruleth  all  things,  and  looketh  on  you  with  keen 
eyes,  and  I  see,  that  now  ye  are  full  of  fear,  and  scarce  dare  to  lift  up 
your  eyes.  Now,  drop  your  folly,  and  trow  In  our  god,  who  hath  all 
your  ways  in  his  hand.'  And  thus  he  closed  his  speech. 

"The  king  spake  to  Kolbein  the  Strong,  without  the  bonders  wot- 
ting thereof:  'If  so  It  befall,  the  while  of  my  speech,  that  they  look 
away  from  their  god,  then  give  him  that  stroke,  the  most  that  thou 
mayest,  with  thy  club.' 

"Then  the  king  stood  up  and  said:  'Many  things  hast  thou  said  to 
us  this  morning ;  thou  deemest  it  a  wonder  that  thou  mayest  not  see 
our  god,  but  we  hope  he  will  soon  come  to  us.  Thou  threatenest  us 
with  thy  god,  who  is  blind  and  deaf,  and  may  neither  help  himself  or 
others,  and  may  get  him  nowhither  away  from  his  place,  save  he  be 
borne;  and  now  I  look  for  it  that  he  will  be  but  a  little  way  from  ill. 
Lo!  look  ye  now  and  gaze  eastward,  there  now  fareth  our  god  with  a 
great  light.' 

"Then  ran  up  the  sun  and  all  the  bonders  looked  towards  him.  And 
in  that  same  nick  of  time  laid  on  Kolbein  so  well  on  their  god,  that 
it  burst  all  asunder,  and  out  of  it  leapt  mice  as  big  as  cats,  and  adders, 
and  worms.  But  the  bonders  were  so  afeard,  that  they  fled  away,  some 
to  their  ships,  but  whenas  they  ran  out  their  craft,  the  water  rushed 
in  and  filled  them,  so  they  might  not  go  a-board  them.  But  they  that 
ran  to  the  yoke-beasts  found  them  nowhere."  (Chapter  119.) 

Page  9.  Loki. 

"One  dweller  in  Asgard  is  still  to  be  mentioned,  and  that  is  the  evil 
Loki,  who  disturbs  the  peace  of  the  gods,  and  will  work  their  final  ruin. 
He  was  born  among  the  Yotuns,  but  gained  the  confidence  of  Odin  by 


124  NOTES 

his  agreeable  presence  and  his  fair  speech.  He  had  three  children  — 
the  wolt  Fenris,  the  world-serpent,  and  Hel."  (H.  H.  Boyesen.) 

Page  io.  LaivmanTore. 

The  Lawman  (Lagmand)  was  the  spokesman  of  the  Thing,  who  knew 
the  law  by  heart,  and  declared  it  when  disputes  arose.  When  Tore  is 
later  represented  as  "grasping  the  ancient  law-book,"  the  poet  employs 
an  anachronism,  since  the  law  at  that  time  remained  unwritten. 

Page  io.  Truce  ivas  proclaimed. 

No  outlaw  might  be  present  at  the  Thing.  Should  one  present  himself, 

he  might  be  slain  without  compunction. 

Page  ii.  Gauta-Tore. 

The  Tore  who  comes  with  Afrafaste  to  join  the  King  in  the  Tenth 

Song. 

Page  ii.  Farg  i  <veum. 

Wolf  in  the  sanctuary.  It  will  be  remembered  that  in  the  Frithlof  Saga, 

the  hero,  in  his  bitterness,  declares  that  men  call  him  ^argi  njeum. 

Page  i  i.  Hel. 

Daughter  of  Loki,  and  goddess  of  the  underworld. 

Page  12.  A  god  in  the  gro've. 

The  images  of  the  gods  were  usually  erected  in  groves ;  hence  this  ex- 
pression, which  occurs  elsewhere  in  the  poem. 

Page  i  5.  Unloaded  his  ships. 

This  would  seem  to  indicate  that  he  had  come  by  way  of  the  Gulf  of 

Bothnia,  and  that  lamtland  reached  to  the  coast. 

Page  i  5.  Vikar  of  Tiundaland. 

Arnljot's  brother  is  mentioned  in  Chapter  102  of  the  Sagaof  Olaf  Tryg- 
vason  in  the  Heimskringla  (and  also  twice  in  the  Great  O.  T.  Saga), 
where  we  read  of  the  manning  of  the  Long  Serpent,  Olaf's  famous  war- 
ship. "  Wulf  the  Red  was  the  man  hight  who  bore  King  OlaPs  banner 
and  was  in  the  prow  of  the  Worm;  and  next  to  him  was  Kolbjorn  the 
Marshal,  Thorstein  Oxfoot  also,  and  Vikar  of  Tenthland,  the  brother 
of  Arnljot  Gelline." 

Page  17.  S'volder. 

A  small  island  in  the  Baltic,  between  Riigen  and  the  mainland.  There 


NOTES 


125 


was  fought,  on  September  9,  1000,  the  great  sea-fight  between  Olaf 
Trygvason  and  his  allied  foes,  King  Sweyn  Forkbeard  of  Denmark, 
King  Olaf  of  Sweden,  and  Earl  Erik  of  Norway,  which  resulted  in  the 
defeat  and  death  of  Olaf  Trygvason,  and  the  capture  and  destruction 
of  the  Long  Serpent,  the  most  famous  of  Norse  galleys. 

Page  35.  Arnljot's  Yearning  for  the  Sea. 

This  Song,  as  well  as  At  the  IVinter-T/iing,  was  written  In  i860,  and 
appeared  at  that  time  in  a  Danish  magazine.  The  year  (i  870)  that  wit- 
nessed the  publication  of  the  completed  Arnljot  Gelline  was  also  the  year 
in  which  Bjorn&on's  collected  Poems  and  Sengs  appeared,  and  it  is  to 
be  noted  that  Arnljofs  Teaming  for  the  Sea  was  included  in  that 
collection  as  an  independent  poem,  entitled  The  Sea.  This  poem  is  in 
many  respects  a  piece  of  psychological  self-portraiture.  In  the  late 
fifties,  Bjornson  had  been  a  storm-centre  of  political  controversy,  and 
at  times  must  have  felt  with  Arnljot,  that  every  man's  hand  was 
against  him.  The  years  during  which  Arnljot  Gelline  was  written  were 
the  years  In  which  the  thought  of  the  modern  world  was  fecundating 
Bjornson's  mind,  and  broadening  his  outlook.  He  was  coming,  like 
his  hero,  to  feel  that  the  old  beliefs  were  outworn,  and  to  get  glimpses 
of  the  new  world  of  ideas  that  was  to  transform  the  manner  of  his 
thinking,  and  open  broad  new  horizons  to  his  view.  This  transition 
period  of  unrest  and  intellectual  ferment  Is  not  so  much  revealed  as 
foreshadowed  in  Arnljot's  musings  upon  the  sea,  which  to  him,  as  to 
every  Norseman,  had  such  appealing  and  dreadful  significance. 

"For  the  old  Norsemen  the  sea  stood  as  the  goal  of  all  desire  when 
their  minds  were  stirred  by  ambition  and  the  lust  for  adventure.  There 
was  something  very  alluring  in  the  free  and  joyous  life  of  the  viking 
ship.  There  were  new  things  to  see,  and  booty  to  gain.  To  foreign  lands 
overseas  fared  the  discontented  who  had  been  balked  or  had  suffered 
misfortune  at  home.  This  longing  was  in  the  very  blood  of  youth.  At 
sea  indeed  dangers  threatened  from  every  side,  and  foes  lurked  in  every 
fjord,  or  behind  every  Island.  But  this  danger-filled  warrior-life,  in  which 
heroic  deed  and  noble  death  went  hand  In  hand,  was  the  Ideal  of  the 
old  Æslr-religion.  He  who  fell  In  battle  entered  straightway  Into  the 
warrior-life  of  the  chosen  with  Odin  in  Valhalla."  (J.  Morland.) 

Page  38.  In  the  Mist  of  the  Northern  Ocean. 
There  are  two  Sagas  of  Olaf  Trygvason.  One  is  the  work  of  Snorri,  In 
the  Heimskringla;  the  other,  very  much  longer,  is  a  compilation  made 
about  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  from  many  earlier  narra- 


126  NOTES 

tives.  For  much  of  the  matter  in  the  Sixth  Song  of  Arnljot  Gelline 
BjOrnson  has  drawn  upon  this  Great  O.  T.  Saga,  and  the  passages  re- 
produced in  these  Notes  are  taken  from  J.  Sephton's  English  transla- 
tion. In  the  Mist  of  the  Northern  Ocean  brings  Arnljot  to  our  view 
upon  his  return  to  the  icy  seas  of  the  Northland  after  a  viking  expedi- 
tion which  had  taken  him  to  the  coasts  of  Wales  and  Ireland.  In  their 
furtherance  of  the  Christian  faith,  both  Olaf  Trygvason  and  Olaf  the 
Holy  were  constantly  beset  and  harassed  by  trolls  —  evil  spirits  —  who 
realized  that  the  foundations  of  their  power  were  being  undermined, 
and  drastic  indeed  were  the  courses  of  the  Christianizing  kings  in  deal- 
ing with  these  sinister  antagonists.  One  episode  of  this  sort  is  pic- 
turesquely related  by  Longfellow  in  'The  Saga  of  King  Olaf.  Arnljot, 
whose  inclination  toward  the  new  faith  was  surmised  by  the  trolls, 
would  naturally  be  singled  out  for  attack  by  these  evil  powers,  and 
Bjornson  has  transferred  to  him  the  incident  given  in  Chapter  212  of 
the  Great  O.  T.  Saga. 

"After  King  Olaf  had  Christianized  all  the  region  round  about  the 
frith  [of  SalptI],  he  proceeded  south,  sailing  close  to  land.  Many  events 
happened  on  this  voyage  that  have  a  place  in  stories ;  we  are  told  that 
trolls  and  other  evil  spirits  scoffed  at  the  King's  men,  yea,  sometimes 
at  the  King  himself.  One  day  as  they  were  on  their  voyage,  they  beheld 
a  man  in  a  sculler  rowing  landwards  and  making  towards  some  rocks. 
As  he  sat  in  the  boat  he  looked  tall  and  broad-shouldered,  and  plied 
his  oars  vigorously.  The  King  said  to  his  men  :  'Put  some  spirit  into 
your  rowing;  I  want  to  come  up  with  the  tall  man  there  in  front,  and 
see  what  sort  of  a  youth  he  is.'  The  tall  man,  seeing  them  quicken  their 
stroke,  did  likewise.  He  pulled  his  oars  sharply  through  the  water,  kept 
his  shoulders  down,  and  maintained  his  distance  ahead.  The  King  then 
urged  his  men  to  row  still  harder;  ordering  the  oars  to  be  brought  into 
play  until  every  bench  on  the  Serpent  was  occupied.  'Let  two  or  three 
men,'he  said,'sit  at  every  oar,and  even  so  we  shall  need  all  yourstrength 
to  overtake  that  fellow.'  They  did,  therefore,  as  the  King  bade  them, 
and  the  Serpent  began  to  gain  on  the  boat.  And  now  the  boatman,  observ- 
ing the  approach  of  his  pursuers,  was  seen  by  the  King  to  glance  sharply 
around  in  all  directions,  and  to  look  hard  at  the  rocks  as  if  measuring 
his  distance  from  them.  Putting  forth  his  strength,  he  strove  eagerly 
to  keep  in  front;  raising  himself  up  as  he  pulled  in  his  oars,  and  then 
sinking  down  Into  the  hollow  of  the  boat  as  he  stretched  forward. 
Nevertheless  his  distance  ahead  grew  smaller,  though  very  slowly.  When 
the  King  thought  the  man  was  within  hearing  distance,  he  hailed  him  : 


NOTES  127 

'Stop  there,  you  tall  fellow  ;  don't  row  away;  we  wish  to  speak  with 
you.'  'Your  treatment  of  all  our  friends,' answered  the  boatman,  'has 
never  been  such  as  to  make  me  wish  to  speak  with  you;  and  I  shall  not 
wait  for  you.  If  we  meet,  the  truth  of  the  proverb  will  be  seen:  "One 
man  is  no  match  for  many." '  Then  quoth  he : 

^Far,far  aioay  is  my  bold  grey-kaired  brother,  mighty 
in  thought  and  deed. 
The  dusky  ship  bears  doivn  upon  my  boat. 
If  nve  tioo  sons  of  Hardråd^  grey-haired  men^ivere  here 

together,  lue  should  notjiee. 
O'er  the  foaming  surf  the  Serpent  glides' 

'You  would  flee  all  the  same,'  said  the  King,  'though  there  were  two 
of  you.  Who  are  you  ?*  'That  is  no  business  of  yours,'  answered  the 
man,  and  thus  spoke: 

*  On  the  sides  of  thy  ship,  the  reindeer  of  the  -wind, 
Play  sixty  oars,  for  thee  alone. 
A  mightier  prince  on  earth  is  scarcely  seen. 
On  my  boat' s  side  there  play  in  my  grasp  but  one  or  tivo, 

to  siveep  the  billoivs. 
Thus  o'verpoiuered,  I  must  yield' 

'And  yield  you  must  now,'  said  the  King.  'Though  I  yield,'  answered 
the  man,  *  I  am  not  to  blame.  Such  a  lot  must  needs  befall  an  old  fel- 
low in  face  of  so  many  young  and  gallant  men  ;  but  for  all  that  I  shall 
never  come  into  your  power.'  Saying  these  words,  he  sprang  up  with 
a  sudden  start,  flung  away  his  oars,  and  upset  the  boat  under  him.  In 
this  way  they  separated,  and  the  man  was  never  seen  again." 

The  episode  of  Thor's  appearance  on  Arnljot 's  ship  is  based  upon 
the  following  passage  in  the  Great  O.  T.  Saga,  Chapter  213: 

"One  day  as  King  Olaf  was  sailing  south  along  the  coast,  under  a 
fair,  light  wind,  there  was  a  man  standing  on  a  rock  who  shouted  to 
them  and  begged  the  favour  of  a  passage  towards  the  south  of  the  coun- 
try. King  Olaf  therefore  steered  the  Serpent  to  the  rock  where  the  man 
stood,  and  he  climbed  on  board.  He  was  a  young-looking  man  of  tall 
stature,  handsome,  and  he  had  a  red  beard.  As  soon  as  he  came  on 
board  the  dragon-ship,  he  began  jesting  and  wrestling  with  the  King's 
men,  who  found  his  play  rough  whenever  they  tried  their  strength 
against  him.  He  afforded  much  merriment,  and  the  men  amused  them- 
selves in  bantering  him  and  laughing  at  him.  He  in  return  made  fun 
of  the  King's  men,  and  laughed  at  them  as  being  poor  and  weakly 


128  NOTES 

creatures.  'You  are  not  worthy,'  he  said, 'to  serve  so  renowned  a  King 
and  so  fair  a  ship.  This  dragon-ship  was  valiantly  manned  when  Raud 
the  Strong  owned  it.  He  scarcely  required  the  aid  of  such  men  as  I 
am  for  the  sake  of  their  strength,  but  only  for  amusement  and  counsel, 
and  in  comparison  with  me  you  are  but  a  feeble  set.'  The  King's 
men  asked  if  he  had  any  stories  to  tell  them,  old  or  new ;  and  he  replied 
that  there  were  few  questions,  in  his  opinion,  which  they  could  ask  and 
he  not  answer.  They  took  him,  therefore,  to  the  King,  saying  that  he 
was  a  man  of  much  knowledge.  The  King  said  to  him:  'Tell  us,  if 
you  can,  some  tales  of  olden  time.'  'I  will  begin  then.  Sire,'  answered 
he,  'with  this  land  near  which  we  are  sailing.  It  was  inhabited  of  yore 
by  giants,  who  all  chanced  to  come  to  a  sudden  end  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  except  two,  both  women.  Afterwards,  when  people  came 
from  the  east  to  colonise  the  country,  the  two  giant  women  lorded  over 
them,  and  troubled  them.  The  evil  lasted  until  the  inhabitants  resolved 
to  call  upon  Redbeard  for  aid.  So  I  grasped  my  Hammer,  and  slew 
both  the  giants.  And  the  people  have  continued  to  call  upon  me  for 
aid  in  time  of  need  from  that  day,  O  King,  until  now  that  you  have 
so  greatly  wasted  all  my  friends  in  a  way  that  merits  vengeance.'  Hav- 
ing thus  spoken,  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  the  King,  and  at  the 
same  instant,  with  a  scornful  grin,  plunged  overboard,  swift  as  a  bolt, 
into  the  deep,  and  was  never  seen  again." 

Page  39.  BretlanJ. 
Wales. 

Page  4.3.  Day  after  day  to  fight  for  the  sake  of  fighting. 
"Valhalla  is  splendidly  decorated  with  burnished  weapons.  The  ceiling 
is  made  of  spears,  the  roof  is  covered  with  shining  shields,  and  the  walls 
are  adorned  with  armor  and  coats  of  mail.  Hence  the  champions  issue 
forth  every  day  and  fight  great  battles,  killing  and  maiming  each  other. 
But  every  night  they  wake  upwholeand  unscathed, and  return  toOdin's 
hall,  where  they  spend  the  night  in  merry  carousing."  (H.  H.  Boyesen.) 

Page  44.  T^wo  scurrying  giant  maidens. 

See  the  second  quotation  from  the  Great  O.  T.  Saga,  above. 

Page  49.  The  Spring  Freshets. 

This  rugged  Song  is  evidently  allegorical  in  character.  Literally,  it 
offers  a  picture  of  the  powers  of  nature  at  their  work  of  destruction. 
Symbolically,  it  pictures  the  breakdown  of  the  ideals  that  have  shaped 


NOTES 


1 29 


Arnljot's  life  hitherto.  The  following  interpretation  of  the  allegory  is 
given  in  the  commentary  by  J.  Morland: 

"Arnljot  has  grown  so  weary  of  his  hopeless  thought  and  rending 
doubt,  that  he  is  tempted  to  seek,  refuge  in  the  most  unworthy  form 
of  faith,  in  the  horrible,  the  hiding-place  of  cowardice,  to  which  one  is 
hounded  by  fear,  rather  than  drawn  by  religious  longings.  Many  take 
refuge  in  this  form  of  belief  without  having  cast  aside  their  wild-beast 
nature,  or  having  seriously  tested  the  efficacy  of  cleansing  doubt.  In  the 
meanwhile,  Arnljot  awakens,  and  perceives  by  the  stench  that  he  has 
fallen  into  bad  company.  These  wild  beasts  are  like  mankind  in  the 
mass  representing  especially  its  sectarian  differences.  They  yelp  at  the 
free-thinker,  and  greet  him  with  guffaws  of  horse-laughter,  thinking 
they  are  crushing  him.  .  .  .  This  pitiable  cowardice  in  individuals  who 
might  be  mutually  helpful  is  so  hateful  and  bloodthirsty, that  it  arouses 
Arnljot  first  to  laughter,  and  then  to  anger.  He  wishes  that  he  might 
have  all  the  foul  creatures  of  the  world  thus  huddled  together,  as  he 
heaps  up  fagots  in  the  cave-entrance,  and  sets  fire  to  them.  Then  fol- 
lows a  powerful  description  of  the  death-struggle  of  these  cowardly  but 
bloodthirsty  man-beasts,  and  we  seem  to  hear  an  echo  from  the  wars  of 
religion  when  we  read  how, 

In  throes  of  death  convuhive 
Lay  they  ivith  teeth  in  each  other  fastened. 

This  destruction,  which  in  the  case  of  such  a  wretched  pack  seems 
cjuite  justifiable,  has  a  liberating  effect  upon  Arnljot.  He  looks  calmly 
forth  upon  the  upheaval  of  nature  that  has  so  terrified  them,  and  feels 
himself  'cleansed  by  the  storm.' 

"But  this  feeling  of  calm  satisfaction  with  a  deed  of  violence  done 
to  these  cowardly  and  miserable  fellow-creatures  of  his  is  not  for  long 
a  source  of  enjoyment.  Although  his  action  was  impelled  by  righteous 
anger,  it  was  still  the  expression  of  something  hard,  wild,  and  cruel  in 
his  nature.  If  his  thought  seemed  to  be  set  free,  in  his  heart  was  the  old 
ice-bound  hardness.  His  feelings  were  those  of  his  vengeful  frenzy  in 
lamtland.  His  ruling  passions  still  hold  him  in  their  grasp.  The  sym- 
bolical presentation  of  this  is  found  in  the  way  in  which  various  earth- 
trolls  sport  with  him  at  their  will.  He  hears  hollow  moans,  and  the 
earth  heaves  beneath  him.  The  beasts,  so  despicable  in  his  eyes,  that 
he  has  burned  up  in  the  cavern,  have  also  their  friends.  There  is  some 
one  who  thinks  of  them  and  cares  for  them  also.  This  finds  expression 
in  the  anxious  words  echoed  above  him. 


I30  NOTES 

'  Far  off  in  Oyga 
Hearii  I  my  pigs  a-grunting. 
Fie  !  f  or  a  reek  of  fire  in  the  mountain  forests!' 

Loud  laughter  rings  around  him,  and  it  is  indeed  matter  for  laughter 
that  he,  the  human  reptile,  who  has  in  himself  so  much  of  the  wild-beast 
nature,  should  assume  the  right  to  judge. 

"But  may  not  a  man's  righteous  anger  wreak  itself  upon  what  is  mean 
and  contemptible?  Only  when  it  is  in  the  service  of  a  higher  power. 
A  selfish  action,  although  good  in  and  of  itself,  is  prompted  by  the  evil 
one.  All  personal  feelings  of  anger  and  vengefulness  are  promptings  of 
the  evil  one,  who  is  amused  by  them.  The  Gyga-Beast,  the  master-troll, 
is  amused  when  Arnljot  deals  out  justice  according  to  his  own  ideas. 

'  The  Gyga-Beast, 
Grandfather  troll, 
fVanted  to  fool  thee, 
Ga-ve  thee  my  pigs  f  or  his  sport. 
j4mid  the  trees  hidden. 
Lay  he  and  laughed. 
The  rascal !' 

Arnljot  is  vengeful.  He  felt  himself  in  the  right  when  he  slew  the  lamt- 
landers  to  avenge  his  father.  Now  he  has  laid  violent  hands  upon  cer- 
tain of  his  fellow-creatures,  repugnant  indeed,  but  destroyed  by  him 
merely  because  they  aroused  his  scornful  anger.  Now  will  fall  upon  him 
the  same  law  of  vengeance  that  he  himself  has  followed. 

'  Noiv  I  re-venge  me. 
Here  I  command. 
Fit  thyself,  sea-horse. 
To  my  limping  gait !' 

"The  conflict  which  takes  place  in  Arnljot's  mind  and  conscience,  is 
portrayed  in  this  Song  as  a  conflict  in  nature.  When  he  is  flung  about 
by  invisible  powers,  and  when  the  earth  heaves  under  him,  we  have 
a  symbolical  portrayal  of  the  way  in  which  he  is  flung  about  by  his 
changing  moods,  finding  no  reasonable  outlook  for  a  foothold.  When 
laughter  greets  him  from  the  earth  beneath,  and  voices  from  the  air 
around,  it  is  his  own  conscience  that  speaks,  and  when  he  has  dealt  so 
hardly  with  the  worthless  in  others  —  symbolized  by  the  wild  beasts  — 
it  is  in  reality  himself  whom  he  has  scourged.  Deep  within  himself  lie 
the  same  faults  that  he  has  condemned  so  severely,  and  the  Gyga-Beast, 


NOTES 


J31 


grandfather  troll,  who  rules  over  all  these  wild  beasts  and  evil  passions, 
is  thus  symbolically  seen  as  his  own  sinful  nature — the  old  Adam  — 
here  fittingly  indicated  by  the  epithet  'rascal.' 

"Arnljot  is  now  —  it  may  be  said  —  self-convicted  of  sin.  He  sees 
that  human  justice  is  greatly  crippled,  and  that  the  human  decisions 
resulting  therefrom  cannot  stand  in  a  higher  court.  He  realizes  now 
that  the  best  man  can  do  is  so  bad  that  it  provides  no  foundation  upon 
which  to  build  his  life,  but  also  that  the  worst  he  does  is  in  so  far  jus- 
tified that  its  judgment  or  punishment  is  not  to  be  assumed  by  human 
faculty.  His  gaze  seeks  a  higher  justice  tempered  by  love.  He  has  — 
like  the  poet  [Ibsen]  — 'sat  in  judgment  upon  himself.'  His  pride  is 
bent,  his  self-sufficiency  is  shattered,  his  cold  defiance  ends  only  in  de- 
spair. But  he  does  not  wholly  collapse.  The  earth  heaves,  the  hills  rock 
beneath  him,  he  Is  tossed  up  and  down  between  valley  and  tree-tops, 
but  in  the  end  he  keeps  his  footing. 

"And  then  —  in  his  uttermost  need — a  divine  word  rings  through 
the  air,  revealing  to  his  sight  a  two-fold  vision,  lighting  up  the  dark- 
ness of  human  volition.  He  sees  a  wild,  disorderly  troll-horde  pour  forth 
from  mountains  and  hills.  They  are  the  human  passions :  untamed 
strength,  love,  vengefulness,  hatred,  pride,  defiance.  As  long  as  these 
human  passions  are  unrestrained,  and  not  bound  to  the  service  of  a 
noble  aim  under  the  banner  of  a  lofty  thought,  they  are  dangerous  and 
devastating;  they  are  trolls. 

"But  at  the  same  time  he  sees  upon  the  other  side  a  shining  host, 
its  driving  power  these  and  other  passions,  restrained  and  ennobled. 
He  sees  a  procession  of  priests  and  children,  with  torches,  and  crosses, 
and  garlands,  followed  by  warriors  with  banners  and  weapons,  and  in 
the  midst  he  sees  the  King,  Olaf  the  Holy;  bells  are  ringing,  and  songs 
rising  to  heaven.  All  their  passions  are  ordered  under  the  cross.  They 
have  renounced  every  selfish  desire.  In  quiet  strength  is  their  resistless 
force ;  love  has  been  transformed  to  self-sacrificing  affection,  hatred  and 
vengefulness  have  become  burning  zeal,  pride  and  defiance  have  become 
unfaltering  courage  and  unbending  faith.  His  gaze  now  beholds  all 
that  he  has  been  groping  after.  His  own  heavy  passions,  which  he  has 
nursed,  and  under  which  he  has  suffered,  he  now  understands  aright. 
They  are  like  the  trolls  who,  in  wild  disarray,  vainly  break  from  the 
hills.  But  they  may  be  transformed  into  noble  warriors,  priests,  and 
skalds,  in  the  shining  march  toward  the  future.  They  first  have  their 
true  value,  when  they  take  place  and  rank  under  the  banner  of  a  higher 
vision  of  life. 


132  NOTES 

"When  Arnljot  sees  that  here  is  the  goal  of  his  longings,  the  higher 
mission  to  which  he  can  consecrate  his  strength,  his  choice  is  to  go 
with  OlaPs  army.  There  he  will  find  much  of  what  allured  him  in 
the  old  warrior-life  of  the  heathen.  He  sees  tall,  hardened  warriors  with 
weapons  and  shields,  the  king  himself  in  mailed  armor,  his  beard 
streaming — red  as  Thor's — over  his  breast.  The  skalds  sing  of  battle 
—  at  whose  cost  only  may  peace  be  won— now  as  before. 

^Æ  of  yore  blood-red 
Peace  f  ell  from  hea-ven. 
Lofty  the  claim 
Of  the  cross,  0  King, 
Be  thou  leader. 
Thee  ive  folloiv^ 

It  was  this  common  element  in  the  old  heathen  war-ideal  and  the  higher 
life-a,im  of  Christianity  that  impelled  so  many  brave  men  to  take  part 
in  the  crusades.  The  assurance  that  they  were  fighting  in  a  sacred  cause 
brought  peace  to  their  conscience. 

"When  the  poet  in  this  Song  pictures  Arnljot's  spiritual  transition 
from  selfish  pride  to  the  yielding  of  self,  he  gives  us  at  the  same  time 
an  image  of  the  transition  from  heathendom  to  Christianity.  The  pas- 
sage from  winter  to  summer  is  a  good  metaphor  for  the  passage  from 
Æsir  faith  to  Christianity,  from  the  hard  to  the  gentle,  from  the  cold 
to  the  warm. 

"Into  this  description  Bjornson  hasdoubtlesspouredmuchof  hisown 
mood  and  life-experience.  He  has — like  Arnljot  —  felt  the  danger  of 
leaving  a  too  free  rein  to  the  passions  —  ambition,  vengefulness,  pride, 
the  self-regarding  impulses  —  felt  the  need  of  men  to  join  themselves 
in  pursuit  of  a  common  aim,  either  merely  human,  or  religious.  He 
had,  during  years  in  which  Arnljot's  figure  was  taking  shape  in  his 
mind,  become  a  warm  adherent  of  Grundtvig's  conception  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  of  his  view  of  human  life.  Grundtvigianism  was  assuredly 
at  that  time  for  Bjornson  what  the  shining  army  of  Olaf  on  the  milk- 
white  bridge  was  for  Arnljot,  when  it  was  revealed  to  his  gaze  in  the 
midst  of  the  wild  tempest  of  his  passions. 

"The  Grundtvigian  view  of  Christianity  and  history  stamps  the  en- 
tire work.  For  Grundtvig,  God  is  the  people's  great  leader  throughout 
the  course  of  history,  with  whom  men  ally  themselves  of  their  own  free 
will,  as  the  warriors  of  old  took  service  with  a  king,  as  free  men  giv- 
ing him  their  full  devotion.  In  this  spirit  of  free  devotion,  men  bring 


NOTES  133 

with  them  their  full  human  equipment,  but  all  human  effort  becomes 
ennobled  by  the  divine  relation.  Thus  Arnljot's  battle  under  the  ban- 
ner of  the  cross  is  nobler  and  loftier  than  were  his  feuds  in  lamtland, 
although  he  strikes  men  to  earth  in  both  cases.  For  Christianity  is  no 
religion  of  peace  in  the  sense  that  strife  is  excluded,  when  causes  worth 
fighting  for  are  at  stake." 

Page  50.  Ragnarok. 

The  twilight  of  the  gods.  The  day  of  destruction  and  doom. 

Page  60.  The  Summer  March. 

With  this  Song  begins  the  second  section  of  the  poem,  in  which  Olaf 
the  Holy  takes  the  place  of  Arnljot  as  the  central  and  commanding 
figure.  It  is  not  difficult  for  us  to  transfer  our  interest  from  one  to  the 
other,  since  the  two  characters  have  much  in  common,  both  in  their 
external  historj'and  in  theirspiritual  experience.  J.  Morland  says:  "Just 
as  Arnljot  boldly  wreaked  vengeance  upon  his  father's  slayers,  so  Olaf 
began  his  adventurous  career  by  avenging  the  murder  of  his  father 
Harald  Grenske  in  Sweden,  and  his  deeds  in  England  and  France  ex- 
hibit a  reckless  temerity,  defiant  of  every  peril.  Just  as  Arnljot  loses  In- 
gigerd,  who  loves  him,  so  also  had  Olaf  lost  his  Ingigerd,  the  Swedish 
princess,  whom  he  loved  and  who  returned  his  affection.  History  bears 
witness  to  the  fact  that  this  loss  filled  his  mind  with  sorrow,  and  it  is 
significant  that  he  fled  to  the  Russian  court,  where  Ingigerd  was  queen, 
when  misfortune  overtook  him,  and  he  was  forced  to  leave  his  father- 
land. Olaf  was  indeed  at  all  times  a  zealous  Christian,  who  attended 
mass  and  built  churches,  but  it  was  first  during  his  exile  in  Russia  that 
Christianity  so  took  possession  of  him  that  it  bent  his  originally  venge- 
ful mind,  and  converted  him  into  the  gentle  martyr,  willing  to  sacrifice 
all,  and  utterly  devoted  to  his  divine  mission." 

The  historical  situation  at  the  time  of  The  Summer  March  may  be 
briefly  summarized.  King  Knut  of  England  and  Denmark  claimed  the 
overlordship  of  Norway,  and  it  was  his  ambition  to  unite  England  with 
the  three  Scandinavian  countries  in  a  single  powerful  monarchy,  which 
should  counterbalance  the  powers  of  central  and  southern  Europe. 
In  1028,  he  headed  a  strong  expedition  which  landed  at  Nidaros 
(Throndhjem),  where  he  was  proclaimed  king  of  Norway.  Having  ap- 
pointed his  nephew  Earl  Haakon  Eriksson  as  regent,  he  returned  to 
England.  To  maintain  his  hold  upon  Norway,  Knut  had  to  command 
the  support  of  the  great  Norse  chieftains,  and  this  he  obtained  by  a  sys- 
tem of  flattery  and  bribery  which  detached  many  of  the  already  dis- 


134  NOTES 

affected  leaders  from  Olafs  cause.  Boyesen  says  :  "The  separatist  tend- 
encies of  the  old  tribal  magnates  had  triumphed  over  the  national 
idea  represented  by  King  Olaf  It  was  they  and  not  King  Knut  who,  in 
order  to  gratify  their  own  greed  for  power,  had  destroyed  the  national 
unity."  Chief  among  these  leaders  were  Einar  Tambarskjælvcr  (at  that 
time  abroad)  j  the  two  Halagoland  chieftains,  Haarek  fra  Tjotta  and 
Tore  Hund  paa  Bjarkoy;  and  Kalv  Arnesson,  Haarek's  brother-in- 
law.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  only  course  open  to  King  Olaf  was 
to  flee  from  the  country.  He  crossed  the  mountains  into  Sweden,  whence 
he  made  his  way  to  Russia  (Gardarike),  where  he  was  welcomed  by 
King  Jarlslaf,  who  was  wedded  to  the  Ingigerd  whom  Olaf  had  wooed 
in  his  earlier  years.  This  was  in  1029,  ^"^  ^'^^  ^  Y^^^  following  Olaf 
remained  in  Gardarike,  plunged  in  deep  melancholy  at  the  thought  of 
his  lost  kingdom,  and  almost  resolved  to  renounce  his  ambition,  make 
a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  and  become  a  monk.  But  late  that  year, 
Bjorn  Stallare,  a  chieftain  who  had  gone  over  to  Knut  for  a  time,  but 
who  now  wished  to  return  to  his  old  allegiance,  sought  Olaf  out  at  the 
court  of  Jarislaf,  bringing  the  news  that  the  regent,  Earl  Haakon,  had 
been  lost  at  sea,  and  urging  Olaf  to  make  the  attempt  to  re-conquer 
his  kingdom.  "He  letted  not  his  journey  till  he  came  east  into  Garth- 
realm  to  King  Olaf  in  winter,  about  Yuletide.  The  king  was  right  glad 
when  Bjorn  met  him,  and  asked  for  many  tidings  from  the  north  from 
Norway.  Bjorn  said  the  earl  was  lost,  and  the  land  left  without  a  ruler. 
At  these  tidings  the  men  were  right  glad  who  had  followed  King  Olaf 
out  of  Norway,  and  had  had  there  lands  and  home.  Many  other  tidings 
from  Norway  Bjorn  told  to  the  king,  such  as  he  was  greatly  wistful 
to  know.  Then  the  king  asked  after  his  friends  as  to  how  they  kept 
faith  with  him,  and  Bjorn  said  that  was  all  with  ups  and  downs;  and 
therewith  Bjorn  stood  up  and  fell  at  the  feet  of  the  king,  and  took 
his  foot  about,  and  said  : '  All  in  God's  power  and  thine,  O  king  !  I  have 
taken  money  from  the  men  of  Knut,  and  sworn  fealty  to  them;  but 
now  will  I  follow  thee,  and  never  sunder  from  thee  while  we  are  both 
alive.' 

"The  king  answers: 'Stand  up  speedily,  Bjorn;  thou  shalt  be  in 
peace  with  me.  Boot  this  to  God.  I  may  wot  that  few  men  will  be  now 
in  Norway  who  will  keep  their  faith  with  me,  when  such  as  thou  turn 
off.  And  true  it  is,  that  men  sit  there  in  great  trouble,  because  I  am 
far  off,  and  they  sit  before  the  unpeace  of  my  foes.' 

"Bjorn  told  the  king  who  mostly  took  the  lead  in  raising  up  hatred 
against  the  king  and  his  men.  Thereto  he  named  the  sons  of  Erling  of 


NOTES  135 

Jadar,  and  other  kinsmen  of  theirs,  Einar  Thambarskelfir,  Kalf  Ami- 
son,  Thorir  Hound,  and  Harek  ofThiotta."  (Chapter  197.) 

The  King  was  greatly  stirred  by  this  news,  but  did  not  come  to  a 
decision  until  one  night  when  Olaf  Trygvason  appeared  to  him  in  a 
dream,  reproaching  him  for  his  faint-heartedness,  and  exhorting  him 
to  risk  all  upon  the  great  adventure.  "And  when  the  king  awoke,  he 
thought  he  saw  the  countenance  of  the  man  as  he  went  away.  So  thence- 
forth he  hardened  his  heart  and  made  strong  that  mind  alone  of  far- 
ing back  to  Norway,  even  as  he  had  been  eagerest  tor  all  along;  and  he 
found  that  all  his  men  would  the  rathest  that  he  should  do  so.  So  he 
talked  it  into  his  mind  that  the  land  would  be  easily  won,  since  it  lay 
lordless,  even  as  he  had  heard.  And  he  was  minded  to  think  that  if  he 
came  thereto  himself,  many  would  be  minded  to  give  him  help.  And 
when  the  king  made  clear  this  rede  to  his  men,  they  all  took  it  right 
thankfully."  (Chapter  199.) 

Page  60.  Trondelag. 
Throndhjem. 

Page  60.  Rode  then  Bishop  Sigurd. 

"Then  rode  the  bishop  up  to  him  and  spoke  to  him,  and  asked  whereof 
he  was  thinking,  seeing  he  was  so  hushed.  For  the  king  was  ever  glad 
and  of  much  speech  with  his  men  in  the  journey,  and  thus  gladdened 
all  who  were  anigh  him.  Then  answered  the  king  with  mickle  care  : 
'Wondrous  things  have  been  borne  before  me  a  while.  I  saw  now  over 
Norway  when  I  looked  west  over  the  bent  of  the  mountain;  and  I  called 
to  mind  how  that  I  had  many  a  day  been  glad  in  that  land.  Then  I  had 
a  sight  so  that  I  saw  over  all  Thrandheim,  and  then  over  all  Norway; 
and  the  longer  that  sight  was  before  my  eye,  then  saw  I  ever  the  wider, 
right  until  I  saw  over  all  the  world,  both  land  and  sea.  I  knew  clearly 
those  steads  where  I  had  been  before  and  had  seen;  but  even  as  clearly 
saw  I  steads  I  had  never  seen  before,  some  whereof  I  have  heard  tell 
of,  both  dwelt  and  undwelt,  as  wide  as  is  the  world.'  The  bishop  said 
that  this  was  a  vision  of  holy  fashion  and  of  right  great  mark."  (Chap- 
ter 213.) 

Pace  63.  Their  treachery  punish,  burn  their  farmsteads. 
"Finn  Arnison  answered  the  king's  speech  and  said:  T  will  tell  thee,' 
says  he,  'what  would  be  done,  if  I  should  rule:  we  should  fare  the  war- 
shield  over  all  the  peopled  parts,  rob  all  wealth  and  burn  down  the 
abodes  so  throughly  that  never  a  cot  should  be  left  standing,  and  thus 


136  NOTES 

pay  the  bonders  for  their  betrayal  of  their  lord.  Methinks  many  a  one 
would  get  loose  from  the  flock,  if  he  saw  home  to  his  house,  and  the 
reek  and  flame  thereof,  and  wotted  unclearly  what  tidings  were  to  tell 
of  his  bairns  and  women  and  old  folk,  their  fathers,  mothers,  and  other 
kindred.'  .  .  .  But  when  King  Olaf  heard  the  eagerness  of  the  folk,  he 
craved  hearing, and  said:  'Forsooth  the  bonders  are  full  worthy  of  be- 
ing dealt  with,  even  as  ye  will ;  they  know  this  withal,  that  I  have  done 
as  much  as  burning  them  in  their  abodes,  and  have  laid  upon  them 
other  heavy  punishments.  I  have  done  this,  that  I  have  burnt  them 
within,  when  they  had  gone  away  from  their  faith,  and  taken  up  blood- 
offerings,  and  would  not  yield  to  my  words ;  but  then  had  we  God's 
right  to  awreak ;  whereas  now  is  this  treason  much  less  of  worth, 
though  they  hold  not  their  troth  to  me ;  though  for  sooth  it  is,  that  it 
will  not  be  deemed  beseeming  to  those  who  will  be  men  of  mandom. 
Yet  I  am  here  somewhat  more  free  to  grant  them  some  release,  when 
they  misdo  against  me,  than  then,  when  they  did  hatefully  against  God. 
Therefore  it  is  my  will  that  men  go  forth  peacefully,  and  do  no  deeds 
of  war- work.' "  (Chapter  217.) 

Page  63.  Loni,  thy  men  haue  doivn-trodJen  My  corn-field. 
"Whenas  the  king  sought  down  from  the  fell,  there  was  there  in  their 
way  a  homestead  called  Sula,  in  the  upper  dwelling  of  the  Verdale  folk. 
Now  when  they  drew  down  towards  the  homestead,  there  were  acres 
lying  beside  the  way,  and  the  king  bade  his  men  fare  quietly,  and  not 
to  spoil  for  the  bonder  what  was  his  own.  And  this  men  did  well,  while 
the  king  was  anigh;  but  the  companies  that  came  after  gave  no  heed 
to  this,  and  men  so  overran  the  acre  that  it  was  all  laid  down  to  earth. 
The  bonder  who  dwelt  there  was  called  Thorgeir  Fleck.  He  had  two 
sons  well  grown  toward  manhood.  Thorgeir  gave  to  the  king  a  right 
good  welcome,  and  to  his  men  withal,  and  o.Tered  him  all  the  cheer  that 
he  had  stuff  to.  The  king  took  this  in  good  part,  and  asked  Thorgeir 
for  tidings,  what  was  toward  in  the  land,  or  whether  any  gathering 
would  be  made  against  him.  Thorgeir  said  that  a  great  host  had  been 
drawn  together  there  in  Thrandheim,  and  that  landed-men  had  come 
there  both  from  the  south  of  the  land,  and  from  the  north  from  Hålo- 
galand ;  'but  I  wot  not,'  says  he,  'whether  they  be  minded  to  set  that 
host  against  thee,  or  otherwhere.'  Then  he  made  plaint  to  the  king  of 
his  scathe,  and  of  the  unquiet  of  the  king's  men,  in  that  they  had  beaten 
down  and  trodden  all  his  acres.  The  king  said  it  was  ill  hap  that  harm 
had  been  done  to  him.  Thereafter  the  king  rode  to  where  the  acre  had 


NOTES 


37 


been  upstanding,  and  saw  that  it  was  all  laid  to  the  ground.  He  rode 
round  about  and  said:  'I  look  forward  to  this,  goodman,  that  God 
will  right  thy  loss,  and  that  this  field  will  be  better  in  another  week's 
time.'  And  even  as  the  king  had  said,  that  acre  was  of  the  best.  The 
king  tarried  there  the  night,  and  arrayed  his  journey  the  next  morning. 
He  says  that  goodman  Thorgeir  shall  fare  with  him,  but  Thorgeir  bade 
his  two  sons  for  the  journey.  The  king  says  they  should  not  fare  with 
him,  but  the  lads  would  go,  and  the  king  bade  them  abide  behind.  But 
whereas  they  would  not  be  letted,  the  king's  courtiers  would  bind  them. 
The  king  said  when  he  saw  that:  'Let  them  fare;  they  will  come  back 
again.'  And  it  went  with  the  boys  even  as  the  king  had  said."  (Chap- 
ter 224.) 

Page  64.  Lor  J,  ^w  hat  guerdon  a^waits  us,  Who  follonx}? 

OlaPs  answer  to  this  question  recalls  the  words  of  Ibsen's  Brand  in 

reply  toa  similar  question  from  those  who  have  followed  him  into  the 

mountains. 

''^ H01V  long  the  ivar  ivill  last? 

As  long  as  life,  till  ye  ha-ve  cast 

All  ye  possess  before  the  Lord, 

And  slain  the  Spirit  of  Accord  ^ 

Until  your  stiff  ivill  bend  and  boiv. 

And  euery  coiuard  scruple  f  all 

Before  the  bidding:  Nought  or  All!" 

Another  suggestion  is  found  in  the  words  of  Garibaldi  to  the  men  who 
followed  him  from  Rome,  and  asked  what  their  reward  should  be : 
"Fame,  sete,  marcie  forzate,  battaglie,  e  morte." 

Page  65.  The  skalds  sang  at  the  prospect  At  eijentide. 
"Olafs  favorite  skald,  Siglivat,  was  at  that  time  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
Jerusalem,  but  three  others,  Tormod  Kolbrunarskald,  Torfinn  Mund, 
and  Gissur  Guldbraarskald,  were  with  him  on  the  march." 

Page  67.  Tore  BJarkoi. 

See  introductory  Note  on  The  Summer  March. 

Page  68.  Norsemen  'will  sing  it  in  ages  Far  distant. 
Olaf  said:  "Ye  shall  be  here,  and  see  the  tidings  which  here  shall  be 
done;  then  there  will  be  no  need  for  others  to  tell  you  the  tale,  for  ye 
shall  be  the  tellers  thereof,  and  sing  of  it  thereafter." 


138  NOTES 

Page  70.  In  the  Camp. 

The  material  of  this  Song  is  provided  by  Chapters  212  and  215  of  the 

Saga  of  Olaf  the  Holy. 

"Two  men  are  named,  one  hight  GowJc-Thorir,  and  the  other  Afra- 
fasti;  they  were  way-layers,  and  the  most  of  robbers,  and  they  had 
with  them  thirty  men  of  their  fashion.  These  brethren  were  bigger  and 
stronger  than  other  men,  nor  did  they  lack,  for  boldness  and  stout  heart. 
They  heard  of  the  host  that  was  låring  over  the  land  there,  and  they 
said  between  them,  that  it  would  be  handy  rede  to  fare  to  the  king  and 
to  follow  him  to  his  own  land,  and  there  to  go  into  a  folk-battle  with 
him,  and  thus  to  approve  themselves;  for  erst  had  they  never  been  in 
battles  such  as  were  of  hosts  arrayed,  and  they  were  wistful  exceeding 
to  see  the  battles  of  the  king.  This  rede  their  fellows  liked  well,  and  so 
they  made  their  journey  to  find  the  king. 

"And  when  they  came  there,  they  went  with  their  band  before  the 
king,  and  all  these  fellows  stood  all-weaponed.  They  greeted  him,  and 
he  asked  what  men  they  were.  They  named  themselves,  and  said  that 
they  were  men  of  that  land.  And  therewithal  they  upbore  their  errand 
and  bade  the  king  to  fare  with  him. 

"The  king  said  that  it  seemed  to  him  that  of  such  men  there  would 
be  good  following;  'therefore  I  am  fain,'  says  he,  'to  take  such  men; 
but  are  ye  Christian  men?'  says  he. 

"Answers  Gowk-Thorir,  saying  that  he  was  neither  Christian  nor 
heathen:  'We  fellows  have  no  other  faith  than  this,  that  we  trust  to  our 
might  and  main,  and  our  victory-goodhap;  and  that  worketh  enough 
for  us.'  The  king  answers:  'It  is  great  scathe  that  men  of  such  valiant 
bearing  trow  not  in  Christ,  their  Shaper.'  Answered  Thorir:  'Is  there 
any  one  in  thy  company,  king,  of  the  men  of  Christ,  who  hath  waxed 
more  in  one  day  than  we  brethren?' 

"The  king  bade  them  be  christened  and  take  the  right  faith  there- 
with:'And  follow  me  thereafter,  and  I  shall  make  you  men  of  mickle 
worship;  but  if  ye  will  not  this,  then  fare  ye  back  about  your  business.* 

"  Afrafasti  answers,  saying  that  he  will  take  no  christening;  and 
therewithal  they  turn  away.  Then  said  Gowk-Thorir:  'It  is  a  great 
shame  indeed  that  this  king  should  make  us  castaways  of  his  company; 
for  I  never  was  before  whereas  I  was  not  partaker  against  any  other 
man;  never  shall  I  go  back  as  things  now  stand.' 

"So  they  threw  themselves  in  company  with  the  other  mark-men, 
and  followed  the  host. 

"And  now  King  Olaf  maketh  his  way  westward  towards  the  Keel. 


NOTES 


'39 


"Then  they  brought  their  host  out  to  Staff.  And  when  the  king  came 
upon  the  Staff-mere  he  made  a  halt;  and  there  he  heard  of  a  truth  that 
the  bonders  fared  with  an  host  against  him,  and  that  he  would  have 
battle  speedily.  Then  the  king  took  the  muster  of  his  host,  and  the 
tale  of  the  men  was  scored,  and  there  were  found  to  be  in  the  host 
nine  hundred  heathen  men.  So  when  the  king  knew  this  he  bade  them 
let  themselves  be  christened,  saying  he  will  not  have  heathen  men  in  his 
battle.  'We  will  not,'  said  he,  'trust  in  the  multitudes.  In  God  will  we 
trust,  for  by  his  might  and  mercy  shall  we  gain  the  victory  ;  but  I  will 
not  blend  heathen  folk  up  with  my  men.' 

"  But  when  the  heathen  heard  this,  they  took  counsel  together,  and 
at  last  four  hundred  took  christening, but  five  hundred  gainsaid  Christ's 
law,  and  that  host  turned  back  to  their  own  country.  Then  stepped 
forward  the  brethren  Gowk-Thorir  and  Afrafasti  with  their  band,  and 
offered  the  king  their  aid  once  more.  He  asked  if  they  had  already  taken 
christening,  and  Gowk-Thorir  said  it  was  not  so.  The  king  bade  them 
take  christening  and  the  new  faith,  or  go  their  ways  otherwise.  So  then 
they  turned  away  and  had  a  talk  between  them,  and  took  counsel  to- 
gether what  rede  they  should  take  up.  Then  spake  Afrafasti :  'So  is  it 
to  be  said  of  my  mind,  that  I  will  not  turn  back.  I  will  fare  to  the  battle, 
and  give  my  aid  to  one  side  or  other ;  but  to  me  it  makes  no  odds 
on  which  side  I  be.'  Then  said  Gowk-Thorir:  'If  I  shall  fare  to  the 
battle,  then  will  I  give  aid  to  the  king,  for  he  stands  in  the  greatest  need 
of  help ;  but  if  I  am  to  trow  in  some  god  or  other,  why  should  it  be 
worse  to  me  to  trow  in  White-Christ  than  in  any  other  god  ?  Now  it  is 
my  counsel  that  we  should  let  us  be  christened,  if  the  king  deemeth  that 
a  great  matter,  and  let  us  afterwards  go  into  the  battle  with  him.'  This 
they  all  yeasaid,  and  go  to  the  king  to  tell  him  that  they  are  willing 
to  take  christening.  So  they  were  christened  of  the  clerks  and  confirmed 
thereafter,  and  the  king  took  them  into  the  laws  of  his  body-guard, 
and  said  they  should  be  under  his  banner  in  the  battle." 

Page  78.  The  King's  Prayer. 

This  beautiful  Song  reveals  the  workings  of  the  King's  mind  on  the 
eve  of  the  battle  which  is  to  determine  the  fate  of  his  cause.  If  anything 
further  were  needed  to  enlist  our  sympathies  in  his  behalf,  it  would  be 
provided  by  the  deeply-moving  self-revelation  of  this  Prayer.  In  this 
fervent  outpouring  we  get  a  glimpse  of  the  inmost  recesses  of  his  soul, 
and  see  the  working  of  the  motives  by  which  he  is  actuated.  Standing 
in  the  shadow  of  imminent  death,  the  deep  humility  of  this  utterance, 


I40  NOTES 

its  confession  of  the  hot-blooded  deeds  of  a  violent  past,  its  utter  sub- 
mission to  the  will  of  God,  and  its  vision  of  a  future  in  which  his  de- 
scendants "foothold  may  find  where  I  slipped,"  we  see  revealed  those 
traits  which  endeared  him  to  memory  after  his  death,  and  made  of  him 
the  national  Hero  and  Saint.  This  penetration  into  the  heart  and  soul 
of  Olaf  marks  the  genius  of  Bjornson  more  clearly,  perhaps,  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  poem. 

Page  8i.  The  Army  Awakens. 

Now  dawns  the  morning  of  the  fateful  day  (August  31,  1030).  "The 
night  that  King  Olaf  lay  among  his  host  as  is  aforesaid,  he  waked  long, 
and  prayed  to  God  for  himself  and  his  host,  and  slept  but  little.  Against 
dawn  there  fell  heaviness  upon  him,  and  when  he  awoke,  up  ran  the 
day.  The  king  deemed  it  somewhat  early  to  rouse  the  host.  Then  he 
asked  where  was  Thormod  the  Skald.  He  was  anigh  there,  and  gave 
ansAver,  and  asked  what  theking  would  with  him. The  king  said  :  'Tell 
us  some  song.'  Thormod  sat  up  and  sang  out  right  high,  so  that  it  was 
heard  throughout  all  the  host."  (Chapter  220.) 

Page  81.  Bjarkemaal. 

The  two  stanzas  here  given  are  in  the  translation  of  Morris  and  Mag- 
nussen. "Bjarkemaal  was  a  battle-song  known  throughout  Norway. 
It  bore  the  name  of  Bodvar  Bjarke,  one  of  the  warriors  of  Rolf  Krake. 
The  saga  relates  that  Rolf  Krake  with  his  warriors  gave  aid  to  his 
step-father,  the  Swedish  king  Adds,  against  the  Norwegian  king  Aale  ; 
hence  Rolf's  warriors  in  the  song  are  called  Adils'  followers.  Among 
these  warriors  were  Haar  den  Hardgreipe  (High  the  hard-gripping) 
and  Hrolv  Skjotande  (Hrolf  of  the  shooting);  the  best  known  were  Bod- 
var Bjarke  and  Hjalte.  It  was  Bjarke  or  Hjalte  who  aroused  the  host 
with  the  so-called  Bjarkemaal  on  the  night  when  Rolf  Krake  was  at- 
tacked by  his  brother-in-law,  Hjartvar,  and  slain  in  the  battle  with 
all  his  heroes.  The  battle  is  here  called  'Hilda's  play;'  Hilda  was  a 
valkyrie.  Bjarkemaal,  which  is  a  call  to  battle,  is  well  fitted  to  the  situa- 
tion here,  and  its  stirring  words  are  likened  to  the  mail-clad  valkjTies 
('Bjarkemaal's  battle-clad  maidens'),  because  the  valkyries  were  pic- 
tured as  hovering  in  full  armor  over  the  fighters,  urging  them  to  battle, 
and  bearing  away  the  slain.  These  conjuring  words  arouse  in  the  host 
memories  of  the  valorous  deeds  of  their  forefathers,  bringing  before 
their  gaze 


NOTES  141 

Visions  in  marching  array 
Of  our  forefathers  forth-faring 
Tofght. 

Life  stirs  in  the  camp,  and  the  men  are  impelled  to  plunge  into  battle 
for  the  beloved  land,  to  which  they  have  come  home,  and  which  lies 
bright  before  them  in  the  autumn  sun  —  to  plunge  into  battle  for  the 
king  and  against  'Odin  his  wiles,'  'e'en  as  in  the  songs  of  old.'  Bjarke- 
maal  has  quite  a  good  deal  to  say  about  Odin's  wiliness  and  treachery." 
(J.  Morland.) 

Page  83.  'The  King  a  ring  from  his  arfn. 

"The  king  thanked  him  for  his  glee,  and  sithence  the  king  took  a  gold 
ring  weighing  half  a  mark  and  gave  it  toThormod.  Thormod  thanked 
the  king  for  his  gift,  and  said:  'A  good  king  have  we,  but  it  is  a  hard 
matter  now  to  see  through,  how  long-lived  the  king  may  be;  and  it  is 
my  boon,  king,  that  thou  let  us  part  nevermore,  alive  or  dead.' 

"The  king  answered:  'All  we  shall  fare  together,  while  I  rule  over 
it,  if  ye  choose  not  to  part  from  me.' 

"Thormod  said:  'This  I  look  for,  king,  whether  the  peace  be  better 
or  worser,  that  I  shall  be  standing  near  to  you,  while  I  have  the  choice, 
whatever  we  may  hear  of  Sigvat,  where  he  may  be  faring  with  Gold- 
enhilt.' "  (Chapter  220.) 

Page  83.  Certainly  Sighuat  this  day. 

"The  king  heard  that  and  answered:  'No  need  to  jeer  at  Sigvat  for  not 
being  here.  Oft  has  he  followed  me  well ;  now  will  he  pray  for  us,  and 
we  shall  yet  stand  in  sore  need  thereof.' 

"Thormod  says:  'It  may  be,  king,  that  now  thou  standest  most  of 
all  in  need  of  prayers,  but  thin  would  it  be  about  the  banner-staff,  if  all 
thy  court  men  were  now  on  the  Rome-road;  and  indeed  it  was  true, 
that  we  would  be  talking  then  how  that  no  one  might  get  place  be- 
cause of  Sigvat,  howsoever  one  might  wish  to  speak  to  thee.'"  (Chap- 
ter 218.) 

Page  85.  Stiklestad. 

The  scene  of  the  great  battle  is  about  a  hundred  kilometres  north  of 
Throndhjem,  in  Verdalen,  near  an  arm  of  the  Throndhjem  Fjord. 
A  commemorative  column  erected  in  1805  marks  the  spot  where 
King  Olat  fell.  The  landscape  is  gently  rolling,  with  mountains  in  view 
toward  the  west,  and  glimpses  of  the  fjord  in  the  east.  It  may  be  reached 
by  rail  from  Throndhjem  in  about  three  hours. 


142  NOTES 

Page  87.  Faithful  men. 

The  King's  final  exhortation  to  his  followers,  which  is  clothed  in  words 
of  such  tender  and  appealing  beauty  in  BjOrnson's  poem,  is  given  in 
the  Saga  as  follows: 

"We  have  an  host  good  and  great,  and  although  the  bonders  have 
an  host  somewhat  more,  yet  will  fate  rule  the  victory.  I  have  to  make 
known  unto  you  that  I  shall  not  flee  from  this  battle ;  I  shall  either 
overcome  the  bonders,  or  shall  fall  here  else.  And  this  I  pray,  that  that 
lot  come  up  which  God  sees  will  be  for  me  the  gainfullest.  We  shall 
trust  in  this,  that  we  have  a  more  rightful  cause  to  plead  than  the 
bonders;  and  this  furthermore,  that  God  will  make  free  our  own  to 
us  aher  this  battle,  or  else  will  give  us  a  reward  mickle  more  for  the 
loss  that  we  here  get,  than  we  ourselves  know  how  to  pray  for.  But  if 
it  be  my  lot  to  have  aught  to  say  after  the  battle,  then  shall  I  reward 
each  one  of  you  according  to  his  work's-worth,  and  according  to  the 
way  whereas  each  goeth  forth  in  the  battle ;  for  then,  if  we  gain  the 
victory,  there  will  be  enough  to  share  between  you,  both  of  lands  and 
chattels,  which  are  now  in  the  hands  of  my  foemen.  Let  us  make  the 
hardest  of  onslaughts  at  first;  for  swiftly  there  will  be  a  shifting,  though 
odds  be  mickle,  and  we  have  to  hope  for  victory  from  speedy  dealing; 
whereas  that  will  fall  heavy  on  us,  if  we  have  to  fight  unto  weariness, 
so  that  men  thereof  become  unfightworthy.  For  we  shall  have  less  fresh 
folk  than  they,  to  go  forth  in  turn,  while  some  shield  themselves  and 
rest.  But  if  we  make  the  brunt  so  hard  that  they  turn  aback  who  are 
foremost,  then  will  each  fall  across  the  other,  and  their  mishap  will  be 
the  greater,  the  more  they  are  together." 

Page  90.  The  Coming  of  Arnljot. 

This  Song  is  based  upon  Chapter  227  of  the  O.  H.  Saga. 

"It  befell  again,  when  King  Olaf  was  come  to  Sticklestead,  that  a 
certain  man  came  to  him.  But  this  was  nought  wondrous,  in  so  far 
that  many  men  came  to  the  king  out  of  the  countrysides  there,  but  it 
was  deemed  for  new  tidings,  whereas  this  man  was  unlike  unto  other 
men  of  them  who  had  come  to  the  king  as  then.  He  was  a  man  so  high, 
that  none  of  the  others  were  more  than  up  to  the  shoulder  of  him;  he 
was  a  very  goodly  man  to  look  upon,  and  of  fair  hair.  He  was  well- 
weaponed,  and  had  a  full  fair  helm  and  a  ring-byrny,  and  a  red  shield, 
and  was  girt  with  a  fair-wrought  sword ;  he  had  in  hand  a  gold-inlaid 
great  spear,  the  shaft  thereof  was  so  thick  that  a  good  handful  it  was. 
This  man  went  before  the  king  and  greeted  him,  and  asked  if  he  would 


NOTES 


H3 


have  help  of  him.  The  king  asked  what  was  his  name  and  kindred, 
and  whence  of  lands. 

"He  answers:  'I  have  kindred  in  lanitland  and  Helsingland;  I  am 
called  Arnliot  Gellini;  and  that  most  1  can  to  tell  thee,  that  I  gave 
some  furtherance  to  those  men  of  thine  whom  thou  sentest  to  lamtland 
to  crave  scat  there ;  and  I  handed  over  to  them  a  silver  dish  which  I 
sent  thee  for  a  token  that  I  was  willing  to  be  thy  friend.* 

"Then  asked  the  king  if  Arnliot  were  a  man  christened  or  not.  But 
he  said  this  of  his  troth,  that  he  trowed  in  his  might  and  main.  'And 
that  belief  has  served  me  full  well  hitherto;  but  now  I  am  minded 
rather  to  trow  in  thee,  O  king.' 

"The  king  answered:  'If  thou  wilt  trow  in  me,  then  thou  shalt  be- 
lieve in  what  I  teach  thee.  Thou  shalt  believe  this,  that  Jesus  Christ  has 
created  heaven  and  earth  and  all  men,  and  that  to  him  shall  fare  after 
death  all  those  who  are  good,  and  who  believe  aright.' 

"Arnliot  answered:'!  have  heard  tell  of  the  White-Christ,  but  I 
am  not  well  learned  in  his  doings,  nor  where  he  ruleth;  so  I  will  now 
believe  all  that  thou  hast  to  tell  me,  and  I  will  leave  all  my  matter  in 
thine  hand.' 

"Then  Arnliot  was  christened,  and  the  king  taught  him  as  much  of 
the  faith  as  he  deemed  was  most  needful,  and  arrayed  him  to  the  van- 
ward  battle-array,  and  before  his  own  banner.  There,  too,  were  Gowk- 
Thorir  and  Afrafasti  and  their  fellows." 

Page  95.  The  Battle  of  Stiklestad. 

The  story  of  the  King's  dream  before  the  battle  is  thus  related  in 

Chapter  226  of  the  O.  H.  Saga: 

"But  when  King  Olaf  had  done  arraying  his  host,  then  were  the 
bonders  come  nowhere  nigh  as  yet.  Then  said  the  king  that  the  whole 
host  should  sit  down  and  rest  them.  And  King  Olaf  himself  sat  him 
down,  and  all  his  host,  and  they  lay  at  their  ease.  He  leaned  back  and 
laid  his  head  on  the  knee  of  Finn  Arnison.  Then  sleep  ran  over  him, 
and  that  was  for  a  while. 

"  Then  they  saw  the  heap  of  the  bonders,  how  their  host  sought  on  to 
meet  them,  and  had  set  up  its  banners;  and  the  greatest  multitude  of 
men  was  that.  Then  Finn  roused  the  king,  and  told  him  the  bonders 
were  making  for  them.  And  when  the  king  awoke,  he  said :  'Why  didst 
thou  wake  me,  Finn,  nor  leave  me  to  have  my  dream  out.?' 

"Finn  answered:  'Thou  wouldst  not  be  dreaming  such,  as  that  it 
should  not  be  more  due  for  thee  to  wake,  and  be  ready  for  the  host 


144  NOTES 

that  fareth  upon  us.  Or  dost  thou  not  see  now  whereto  the  bonder- 
crowd  hath  gotten  ?' 

"The  king  answers :  'They  are  not  so  near  yet,  as  that  it  were  not 
better  I  had  slept.' 

"Then  said  Finn:  'What  didst  thou  dream,  king,  whereof  thou 
deemest  it  so  mickle  amiss,  that  thou  shouldst  not  wake  up  of  thyself .?' 

"Then  the  king  told  his  dream;  he  thought  he  saw  a  high  ladder, 
and  that  he  walked  up  the  same,  up  aloft  so  long,  that  he  deemed  he 
saw  the  heavens  open,  and  even  thither  the  ladder  reached:  'And  I  was 
even  then  come  to  the  topmost  rung,  when  thou  didst  call  me.' 

"Finn  answers:  *To  me  nought  seemeth  the  dream  so  good  as  thou 
deemest  it;  for  I  am  minded  to  think  that  this  forebodeth  thee  for 
fey,  if  that  which  came  before  thee  were  aught  else  than  mere  dream- 
fooling.'" 

Page  97.  The  King  kneiv  Kalu  Ames  son. 

"Now  when  either  host  stood  face  to  face  and  men  knew  each  other, 
the  king  said:  'Why  art  thou  there,  Kalf;  whereas  we  parted  friends 
south  in  Mere  .^  It  beseems  thee  but  ill  to  be  fighting  against  us,  or  to 
shoot  death-shot  into  our  host,  whereas  here  be  thy  four  brethren  V 

"Kalf  answers  :  'Much  fareth  otherwise  now,  king,  than  were  best 
beseeming.  In  such  wise  didst  thou  part  from  us,  that  need  was  to  make 
peace  with  them  who  were  left  behind;  and  now  must  each  be  whereas 
he  is  set.  But  we  two  should  yet  make  peace  together,  if  I  might  rule.* 

"Then  said  Finn  :  'That  is  a  mark  of  Kalf,  that  if  he  speaketh  well, 
he  is  minded  to  do  ill.* 

"The  king  said:  'Maybe,  Kalf,  that  thou  wiliest  peace  now;  but 
me-seemeth  that  nought  peacefully  now  ye  bonders  are  doing.'  Then 
answered  Thorgeir  of  Kvistead:  'Ye  shall  now  have  such  peace  as  many 
a  man  hath  had  afore  of  you,  and  now  shall  ye  pay  therefor." 

"Answered  the  king  :  'Thou  needest  not  be  so  eager  for  our  meeting 
—  for  nowise  shall  victory  over  us  be  fated  for  thee  to-day.  Whereas 
I  have  raised  thee  up  to  might  from  a  little  man.'"  (Chapter  237.) 

Page  99.  0«,  on.  King's  men. 

"Therewith  came  Thorir  Hund  with  his  company,  and  went  forth 
before  the  banner,  and  cried  out : '  Forth,  forth.  Bonder-men  ! '  And  the 
bonder-men  let  out  the  war-whoop,  and  shot  both  arrows  and  spears. 
And  then  the  king's  men  set  up  the  war-whoop ;  and  when  that  was 
over,  they  egged  each  other  on  as  they  had  been  taught  to  do  before, 
and  said:  'Forth,  forth,  Christ's  men.  Cross-men,  King's  men  !'  And 


NOTES  145 

when  the  bonders  heard  that,  even  they  who  stood  out  in  the  wing, 
they  cried  the  same  cry  as  they  heard  these  call  out.  And  when  the 
others  of  the  bonder-host  heard  this,  they  thought  that  these  last  were 
the  king's  men,  and  bore  weapons  upon  them,  so  that  they  fought  be- 
tween themselves,  and  many  men  fell  before  they  were  aware  how  it 
was."  (Chapter  238.) 

Page  102.  In  the  arch  of  heanjen  Blood-red  the  sun  shone. 
"  Fair  was  the  weather,  and  the  sun  shone  in  the  clear  heaven.  But  when 
the  battle  began,  the  heaven  was  besmitten  by  redness,  and  the  sun 
withal;  and  before  it  cleared  off,  it  grew  mirk  as  night."  (Chapter  238.) 
An  eclipse  of  the  sun,  which  was  total  in  Verdalen,  lasted  from  1.3 1 
P.M.  until  4.5S  P.M.,  August  31,  1030,  thus  fixing  definitely  the  day 
and  hour  of  the  battle. 

Page  103.  One  man  bided.  Tore  Hund. 

"Thorir  Hund  had  fared  last  with  his  company,  for  he  was  to  watch 
that  the  host  should  not  slink  back,  when  the  war-whoop  came  up  and 
the  foemen's  folk  were  seen."  (Chapter  236.) 

Page  104.  The}!  a  jnadness  Seized  on  Tore. 

"Tore  Hund,  like  Haarek  of  Tjotta,  had  been  bound  to  Olaf  by  the 
feudal  tie,  and  both  had  accepted  Christianity,  but  the  Halogalanders 
held  their  Christianity  lightly,  having  accepted  it  in  a  calculating  spirit, 
out  of  fear  for  the  king's  anger.  Tore  Hund  was  a  treacherous  and 
crafty  man,  and  he  is  depicted  in  the  saga  as  skilled  in  witchcraft.  It 
is,  therefore,  in  consonance  with  the  ideas  prevailing  at  the  time  that 
Tore  Hund  should  steel  his  followers  by  witchcraft,  to  prevent  them 
from  being  driven  to  flight.  His  peculiar  troll-like  character  causes  the 
old  heathendom  to  contend  in  his  mind  with  the  new  Christianity, 
which  threatens  the  rule  of  the  Æsir.  He  believes  —  as  many  of  his  time 
believed  —  both  in  Odin  and  Thor  and  in  Christ.  This  conflict  between 
the  old  faith  and  the  new,  made  known  to  him  by  his  own  doubts,  now 
takes  the  form  of  a  battle  between  the  old  gods  and  Christ,  as  he  watches 
the  King's  army  contend  with  the  bonders'  army  on  the  plain.  The  gods 
take  part  in  the  battle  of  men  ;  it  seems  to  him  as  if  the  divine  powers 
of  both  the  old  and  the  new  religions  seek  to  destroy  each  other,  and 
vanish  in  the  yawning  abyss  of  annihilation  (Ginnungagap).  What  he 
sees  and  thinks,  finds  also  expression  in  his  speech.  By  his  wild  words, 
naming  in  the  same  breath  the  good  and  evil  powers  of  the  old  and 
the  new  religions,  familiar  or  half-familiar  names,  arousing  terror  or 


146  NOTES 

defiance,  hatred  or  loathinj^,  he  makes  his  followers  mad  with  the  wild 
lust  ot  destruction.  Christ  supports  Loki,  the  Fenris-wolf,  the  Midgard- 
serpent,  and  Ymer  from  whom  the  giants'  brood  descended,  in  the  fight 
against  the  high  Æsir,  and  he  even  represents  Satan  as  fighting  on  the 
side  of  Christ,  and  lets  cold  Naastrond  burst  into  flame.  Even  the  dark- 
ened sun  seems  to  fight  against  the  Æsir.  This  discourse,  which  reveals 
the  confusion  of  ideas  in  an  agitated  and  gloomy  soul,  spurs  his  war- 
riors to  Berserk  fury,  driving  them  on  to  slay  and  slay  again  before  the 
world  comes  to  an  end.  'All  now  should  perish.  Even  remembrance.'" 
(J.  M6rland.) 

Page  109.  Falleti  nvas  Arnljot. 

"Then  set  on  the  bonder-host  from  all  sides.  They  hewed  who  stood  the 
foremost;  but  they,  who  there  were  next,  thrust  with  spears,  or  arrows, 
or  hurled  stones,  or  hand-axes,  or  shaft -flints.  And  soon  there  befell  a 
battle  man-scathing,  and  much  folk  fell  on  either  side. 

"In  the  first  brunt  fell  Arnljot  Gellini,  Gowk-Thorir,  and  Afrafasti, 
and  all  their  company,  but  each  had  slain  his  man  first,  or  two,  or  some 
more."  (Chapter  238.) 

Page  i  10.  The  Ki/ig  be /ibid  a  s/iieU-nJoall  Hit/ierto  had  battled. 
"When  King  Olaf  went  forth  out  of  the  shield-burg,  and  into  the 
vanward  of  his  battle,  and  the  bonders  might  look  into  the  face  of  him, 
then  they  were  filled  with  dread  and  their  hands  dropped."  (Chapter 
238.) 

Page  i  i  i.  Torgeir  of  K-vistad. 

"Then  fought  King  Olaf  all  dauntlessly.  He  hewed  on  Thorgeir  of 
Kviststead,  a  landed-man,  who  is  aforenamed,  athwart  the  face,  and 
sheared  asunder  the  nose-guard  of  the  helm  of  him,  and  clave  the  head 
below  the  eyes,  so  that  it  nearly  flew  off.  And  when  he  fell,  the  king 
said  : '  Yea  :  is  that  true,  which  I  said  thee,  Thorgeir,  that  thou  wouldst 
have  no  victory  in  our  dealings.'''"  (Chapter  239.) 

Pac;e  III.  Troll-fur. 

"Thorir  Hound  had  had  the  Finn-journey  these  two  winters,  and  had 
been  both  winters  for  long  on  the  fells,  and  had  gotten  him  measure- 
less wealth.  He  had  had  many  kinds  of  chafferings  with  the  Finns.  He 
had  let  make  for  himself  twelve  coats  of  reindeer-skin  with  so  mickle 
wizardry  that  no  weapon  could  bite  on  them,  yea,  mickle  less  than  on 
a  ring-byrny."  (Chapter  204.)  "King  Olaf  hewed  on  Thorir  Hound 


NOTES  147 

right  across  the  shoulders  ;  the  sword  did  not  bite,  but  it  seemed  as  if 
dust  flew  out  of  the  reindeer-skin.  Hereof  tells  Sigvat: 

The  bounteous  king  most  clearly 
Himself  found  hoiu  the  luise-iuork 
Of  the  luitchcrafty  Finn-folk 
Sa-ved  the  big-fashioned  Thorir^ 
IVhen  the  scatterer  of  the  fire 
Of  the  mast-knop  smote  the  shoulders 
Of  Hound,  and  the  stvord  gold-broidered 
Blunted,  ivould  bite  in  noivise, 

"Then  Thorir  smote  at  the  king,  and  sundry  blows  they  gave  and 
took  ;  But  the  sword  of  the  king  bit  not,  whereas  the  reindeer-skin  was 
in  the  way,  yet  was  Thorir  hurt  in  the  hand."  (Chapter  240.) 

Page  hi.  Thou,  Bjom,  smite  the  dog  Joivn. 

"The  king  said  to  Bjom  the  Marshal :  'Smite  thou  the  hound  whom 
iron  will  bite  not.'  Bjorn  turned  the  axe  in  his  hand  and  smote  with  the 
hammer  thereof,  and  the  blow  took  Thorir  on  the  shoulder  and  was 
a  full  mighty  blow,  and  Thorir  staggered  thereat.  .  .  .  Then  Thorir 
Hound  thrust  a  spear  at  Bjorn  the  Marshal,  and  smote  him  in  the 
midst,  and  gave  him  a  bane-wound.  Then  spake  Thorir  :  'Thus  bait 
we  the  bears."*  (Chapter  240.) 

Page  112.  There  fell  also  Gissur. 

"Therewith  fell  also  Thorfin  Mouth,  and  Gizur  Goldbrow;  but  on  him 
had  two  men  set,  and  one  he  slew  and  the  other  he  hurt,  or  ever  he  fell 
himself."  (Chapter  229.) 

Page  i  12.  There  nvas  also  Tormod  Fatally  ^wounded. 
In  making  Tormod  die  on  the  field  in  defence  of  the  King,  Bjornson 
departs  from  the  saga-version,  which  reads  as  follows:  "Thormud  Coal- 
brow-skald  was  in  the  battle  under  the  banner  of  the  king.  And  when 
the  khig  was  fallen,  and  the  onset  was  at  its  fiercest,  then  fell  the  king's 
company  each  by  the  other,  but  most  of  them  were  wounded  who  stood 
up.  Thormod  was  sore  hurt,  and  he  did  then  as  other  men,  who  all 
drew  aback  from  there  where  they  deemed  was  most  risk  of  life,  but 
some  ran.  Then  arose  the  fight  which  is  called  Day's  Brunt,  wherein 
there  joined  all  the  host  of  the  king  that  was  still  fightworthy.  But 
Thormod  came  not  into  that  battle,  for  that  he  was  unmeet  for  fight- 
ing, both  through  wounds  and  weariness  ;  but  he  stood  there  beside  his 


148  NOTES 

fellows,  though  he  might  do  nothing  else.  Then  was  he  smitten  by  an 
arrow  in  the  left  side.  Then  he  broke  the  arrow-shaft  from  olr  him, 
\jind  went  away  from  the  battle  —  home  to  the  houses,  and  came  to  a 
certain  barn  which  was  a  mickle  house.  Thormod  had  a  naked  sword 
in  his  hand;  and  as  he  went  in,  there  came  a  man  out  against  him,  and 
said:  'Herewithin  they  go  on  wondrous  ill,  with  whining  and  howl- 
ing; and  a  great  shame  it  is  that  valiant  men  should  not  thole  their 
wounds.  Maybe  the  king's  men  have  gone  forth  on  right  well,  but  all 
unmanly  they  bear  their  wounds.'  Thormod  answered:  'What  is  thy 
name  ?'  He  named  himself  Kimbi.  Answered  Thormod:  'Wert  thou 
in  the  battle  ?'  'I  was,'  says  he,  'with  the  bonders;  the  better  side,  to 
wit.'  'Art  thou  hurt  at  all  ?'  says  Thormod.  'Little,'  says  Kii;nbi,  'or 
wert  thou  in  the  battle  ?'  Thormod  answers  :  'I  was,  and  with  them 
who  had  the  better.* 

'•Kimbi  saw  that  Thormod  had  a  golden  ring  on  his  arm,  and  he 
said:  'Thou  must  be  of  the  king's  men;  so  hand  me  the  gold  ring,  and 
I  shall  hide  thee;  for  the  bonders  will  slay  thee,  if  thou  come  in  their 
way.'  Thormod  says:  'Take  the  ring,  if  thou  mayst  reach  it;  now  have 
I  lost  more.'  Kimbi  reached  forth  his  hand,  and  would  take  the  ring. 
Thormod  swept  his  sword,  and  sheared  the  hand  from  off  him.  And 
so  it  is  said,  that  Kimbi  bore  his  wound  nowise  better  than  the  others 
whom  he  had  been  wyting  before;  and  therewith  Kimbi  went  away. 

"But  Thormod  sat  him  down  in  the  barn,  and  sat  there  a  while,  and 
hearkened  to  the  talk  of  men.  This  was  most  spoken  there,  that  each 
man  sayeth  that  which  he  deemed  he  had  seen  in  the  battle,  and  the 
talk  was  ot  onsets  of  men;  and  some  praised  most  the  valour  of  King 
Olaf,  and  some  named  no  less  other  men.  Then  sang  Thormod : 

^Bold  ivas  the  heart  of  OLif, 
Through  blood  the  king  forth  ivaded ; 
At  Stickkstead  the  tur  ought  steel 
Bit,  and  the  host  cra'vcd  battle. 
All  pines  of  the  gale  of  Jalfad 
Sa-ve  the  "very  king,  there  saw  I 
To  spare  themsel'ves ;  yet  most  men 
In  the  fast  spear-drift  did  pro-vc  them^ 

"Thormod  walked  away  thereafter  to  a  certain  outhouse  and  went 
thereinto,  and  within  there  were  already  many  men  sore  wounded.  A 
certain  woman  was  tending  there,  and  binding  up  the  wounds  of  men. 
On  the  floor  there  was  a  fire,  and  she  was  warming  water  for  the  cleans- 


NOTES  149 

ing  of  the  wounds.  But  Thormod  sat  down  out  by  the  door.  There 
one  man  went  out  as  another  came  in  of  them  who  were  busy  about 
the  wounded.  Then  one  turned  to  Thormod,  and  looked  on  him  and 
said  :  'Why  art  thou  so  pale?  Art  thou  wounded  ?*  Then  Thormod 
sang  this  stave : 

''Nay,  noivise  am  I  ruddy. 

But  the  slim  luhite  haivk-perch'  Skogul^ 

She  hath  a  ruddy  husband. 

Of  me,  sore  hurt,feiv  mind  them. 

Thou,  ivont  unto  the  murder 

Of  Fenja's  meal:  that  maketh. 

That  ivith  the  deep  spoor  smart  I 

Of  Day  s  brunt  and  Dane-ivcipons.' 

"Sithencc  Thormod  stood  up,  and  walked  up  to  the  fire,  and  stood 
there  for  a  while.  Then  spake  the  leech  to  him:  'Thou,  man,  go  out 
and  fetch  me  the  billets  which  lie  outside  the  door.'  He  went  out  and 
bore  in  an  armful  of  billets,  and  threw  them  down  on  the  floor.  Then 
the  leech  looked  into  the  face  of  him,  and  said  :  'Wondrously  pale  is 
this  man,  why  art  thou  so  .-''  Then  sang  Thormod: 

''The  oak  of  the  haivk-lands  luondereth 
IVhy  ive  be  pale:  0  looman ! 
The  arroiv  drift  I  found  me: 
^Tisfeiv  groTvfair  by  -wounding. 
It  ivas  the  darksome  metal. 
Driven  by  main, f  civ  through  me; 
The  perilous  sharp  iron 
Bit  nigh  the  heart,  so  iveen  I.' 

"Then  said  the  leech  :  'Let  me  see  thy  wounds,  that  I  may  bind 
them  up.'  Then  Thormod  sat  down  and  cast  the  clothes  from  him. 
And  when  the  leech  saw  his  wounds,  she  searched  about  the  wound  he 
had  in  his  side,  and  she  found  that  iron  stood  therein,  though  she  knew 
not  for  sure  whither  the  iron  had  turned.  She  had  made  there  in  a  stone 
kettle  a  mess  of  leeks  and  other  herbs,  and  sodden  that  together,  and 
she  gave  it  to  the  wounded  to  eat,  and  tried  in  that  manner  whether 
they  had  hollow  wounds ;  whereas  she  kenned  it  from  the  leek  smell- 
ing out  through  the  wound  which  was  in  the  hollow  body.  She  bore 
this  to  Thormod  and  bade  him  eat.  He  answered :  'Take  it  away ;  I 
am  not  sick  for  grout.'  Then  she  took  a  gripping  tongs,  and  would 
draw  out  the  iron  ;  but  It  was  fast,  and  stirred  nowhither  ;  and  it  stood 


5° 


NOTES 


out  but  little  because  the  wound  was  swollen.  Then  said  Thormod: 
'Shear  thou  up  to  the  iron,  so  that  it  may  be  well  caught  by  the  tongs, 
and  then  give  them  to  me,  and  let  me  pull  at  it.' 

"She  did  as  he  bade.  Then  Thormod  took  a  gold  ring  off  his  arm, 
and  gave  it  to  the  leech,  and  bade  her  do  with  it  what  she  would.  'The 
giver  is  good,*  says  he;  'King  Olaf  gave  me  the  ring  this  morning.' 

"Then  Thormod  took  the  tongs,  and  pulled  out  the  arrow;  and  on 
the  barbs  of  it  lay  sinews  from  the  heart,  some  red,  some  white.  And 
when  he  saw  that,  he  said  :  'Well  hath  the  king  fed  us  ;  fat  am  I  yet 
at  the  heart-roots.'  Then  he  sank  aback  and  was  dead.  And  there  is  an 
end  to  the  tale  of  Thormod."  (Chapters  246,  247.) 

Page  112.  T^he  King  njjas  in  danger. 

In  the  saga,  the  death  of  King  Olaf  follows  immediately  upon  the  slay- 
ing of  Bjorn  by  Tore  Hund.  The  account  is  as  follows  :  "Thorstein 
Shipwright  smote  at  King  Olaf  with  an  axe,  and  the  blow  struck  the 
left  leg  anigh  the  knee  and  above  it.  Finn  Arnison  smote  Thorstein 
down  forthwith.  But  at  this  wound  the  king  leaned  him  up  against 
a  stone  and  threw  away  his  sword,  and  bade  God  help  him.  Then 
Thorir  Hund  thrust  a  spear  at  him.  The  thrust  came  on  him  below 
the  byrny,  and  ran  up  into  the  belly.  Then  Kalf  hewed  at  him,  and 
that  blow  took  him  on  the  left  side  of  the  neck.  But  men  are  sundered 
on  the  matter,  where  Kalf  gave  the  king  his  wound.  These  three 
wounds  the  king  got  towards  the  loss  of  his  life.  But  after  his  fall,  then 
most  all  the  company  fell  which  had  gone  forth  with  the  king."  (Chap- 
ter 240.) 

Pageii5.TheNight  After.  T^ore  Hund  Sat  on  a  rock  by  the  King's  body. 
"Thorir  Hund  went  thereto  where  was  the  body  of  King  Olaf,  and 
gave  lyke-help  to  it,  laying  the  body  down  and  straightening  it  and 
spreading  a  cloth  thereover.  And  when  he  wiped  the  blood  off  the  face, 
he  said  thereof  afterwards,  that  the  face  of  the  king  was  so  fair,  that  the 
cheeks  were  even  as  ruddy,  as  he  were  asleep  ;  but  a  mickle  brighter 
than  it  was  afore,  while  he  was  yet  alive.  Then  came  the  blood  of  the 
king  on  to  the  hand  of  Thorir,  and  ran  up  unto  the  grip  where  he  had 
afore  gotten  his  hurt;  and  there  was  no  need  of  any  binding  up  of  that 
hurt  henceforth,  so  speedy  was  the  healing  thereof.  Thorir  bore  wit- 
ness to  this  hap  himself,  when  the  holiness  of  King  Olaf  became  knovra 
to  all  folk;  and  Thorir  Hound  was  the  first  among  the  mighty  men 
who  had  been  of  the  host  of  his  foes  to  uphold  the  holiness  of  the  king." 
(Chapter  242.) 


NOTES 


151 


Page  i  i  6.  Among  the  fnen  'voho  the  corpses  scan?ied  (Vas  Kalz>  Arnesson. 
"Kalf,  the  son  of  Ami,  sought  for  his  brothers  who  were  fallen  there. 
He  came  upon  Thorberg  and  Finn,  and  it  is  the  say  of  men  that  Finn 
hurled  a  sax  at  him,  and  would  slay  him,  and  spake  hard  words  at  him, 
and  called  him  a  peace-dastard  and  a  lord-betrayer.  Kalf  gave  no  heed 
thereto,  but  let  bear  Finn  away  from  the  slain  and  Thorberg  in  like 
wise.  Then  their  wounds  were  searched,  and  they  had  no  hurt  deadly- 
looking;  they  had  fallen  overborne  by  weapons  and  weariness.  Then 
Kalf  busied  him  to  bring  his  brothers  down  aboard  ship,  and  went 
with  them  himself.  But  so  soon  as  he  turned  away,  then  fared  away 
also  all  the  host  of  the  bonders  which  had  their  homes  anigh  there, 
out-taken  such  men  as  were  busy  there  about  their  kinsmen  or  friends 
who  were  wounded,  or  about  the  bodies  of  them  who  had  fallen. 
Wounded  men  were  carried  to  the  homestead,  so  that  every  house  was 
full  of  them,  and  over  some  tents  were  pitched  outside."  (Chapter  243.) 
Before  the  battle,  the  King  had  requested  Thorgils,  a  peasant  of 
the  neighborhood,  to  take  care  of  his  body,  should  he  fall  on  the  battle- 
field. "  A  man  is  named  Thorgils,  son  of  Halma,  and  he  was  the  bonder 
who  then  dwelt  at  Sticklestead,  and  was  the  father  of  Grim  the  Good. 
Thorgils  offered  the  king  his  help,  and  to  be  in  the  battle  with  him. 
The  king  bade  him  have  thanks  for  his  offer  :  'But  I  will,  bonder,  that 
thou  be  not  in  the  battle.  Grant  us  rather  that  other  help,  to  save  our 
men  after  the  fight,  such  as  be  wounded;  and  lay  out  the  bodies  of  the 
others,  who  fall  in  the  fray.  Likewise,  should  such  hap  be,  bonder,  that 
I  fall  in  this  battle,  then  do  what  service  may  be  needful  to  my  body, 
if  It  be  not  forbidden  thee  !' 

"And  Thorgils  avowed  to  the  king  to  do  his  behest."  (Chapter  222.) 
"Thorgils,  son  of  Halma,  and  Grim,  his  son,  fared  to  the  fallen  host 
in  the  evening,  when  mirk  was.  They  took  up  the  body  of  King  Olaf 
and  bore  it  away  to  a  place,  where  there  was  a  house-cot,  little  and 
waste,  out  away  from  the  stead.  They  had  light  with  them  and  water. 
So  then  they  did  the  clothes  off  the  body,  and  washed  it,  and  sithence 
swaddled  it  in  linen  weed,  and  laid  it  down  there  within  the  house,  and 
covered  it  up  with  wood,  so  that  no  one  might  see  it,  though  men 
should  come  into  the  house.  Then  they  went  away  and  home  to  the 
stead.  Many  staff-carles  had  followed  either  army,  and  poor  people  who 
begged  their  meat.  And  the  evening  after  the  battle  a  many  of  that 
folk  had  tarried  there,  and  when  night  fell,  they  sought  harbour  for 
themselves  throughout  all  the  houses,  great  and  small.  There  was  a 
certain  blind  man,  of  whom  a  tale  is  told;  he  was  a  poor  man,  and  his 


152  NOTES 

lad  went  about  with  him,  and  led  him.  They  walked  out  a-doors  about 
the  stead  seeking  harbour,  and  came  to  that  same  void  house,  the  door 
wiiereof  was  so  low  that  one  had  nearly  to  creep  in  throuf^h  it.  And 
when  the  blind  man  came  inside  the  house,  he  groped  about  on  the 
floor,  to  find  whether  he  might  lay  him  down.  He  had  a  hat  on  his 
head,  and  the  hat  fell  forward  over  his  face,  when  he  bent  down.  He 
found  that  before  his  hand  there  was  a  pool  on  the  floor,  and  therewith 
he  lifted  the  wet  hand  and  set  the  hat  right  again,  and  therewith  the 
wet  fingers  came  up  against  his  eyes.  And  forthwith  fell  so  great  itch- 
ing on  his  eyelids,  that  he  stroked  the  wet  fingers  across  his  very  eyes. 
Then  he  betook  himself  out  of  the  house  again,  saying  there  was 
no  lying  therein,  for  it  was  all  wet.  And  when  he  came  out  of  the 
house,  he  saw  forthwith,  first  his  two  hands  one  from  the  other,  and 
then  all  such  things  as  were  near  enough  for  him  to  see  in  spite  of  night- 
mirk.  He  went  home  forthwith  to  the  stead  and  into  the  guest-cham- 
ber, and  there  told  all  folk  that  he  had  got  his  sight,  and  that  now  he 
was  a  seeing  man.  But  that  wotted  many  men,  that  he  had  been  long 
blind,  for  he  had  been  there  before,  going  about  from  house  to  house. 
He  said  that  he  had  got  his  sight  first  when  he  came  out  of  a  certain 
house,  little  and  wretched,  'and  all  was  wet  therewithin,'  says  he,  'and 
I  groped  thereinto  with  my  hands,  and  I  rubbed  my  eyes  with  my  wet 
hands.'  He  told  also  where  the  house  stood. 

"But  the  men  within  there,  when  they  heard  these  tidings,  won- 
dered greatly  at  this  hap,  and  spoke  between  themselves  what  there 
could  be  within  that  house.  But  goodman  Thorglls  and  his  son  Grim 
deemed  they  knew  whence  this  hap  would  have  come,  and  were  in 
great  dread  lest  the  unfriends  of  the  king  should  go  and  ransack  the 
house.  Then  they  stole  away,  and  went  to  the  house  and  took  the 
body,  and  flitted  it  away  and  into  the  meadow,  and  hid  it  there,  and 
then  fared  back  to  the  stead  and  slept  through  that  night."  (Chapter 
349-) 

"Thorglls  Halmason  and  Grim,  the  father  and  son,  had  in  their  keep- 
ing the  body  of  King  Olaf,  and  were  much  mind-sick  herein,  to  wit, 
how  they  might  so  heed  it,  that  the  unfriends  of  the  king  should  not 
mishandle  the  body;  for  they  heard  the  bonders  say  as  much  as  that  the 
thing  to  be  done,  if  the  body  of  the  king  should  be  found,  would  be,  to 
burn  It  or  to  take  it  out  to  sea  and  sink  it  in  the  deep. 

"The  father  and  son  had  seen  in  the  night  as  it  were  a  candle-light 
burning  over  the  spot  where  the  body  of  King  Olaf  lay  amidst  of  the 


NOTES 


153 


fallen  host,  and  also  thereafter,  wheresoever  they  had  hidden  the  body, 
they  saw  ever  at  night  a  light,  looking  thither  whereas  the  king  was 
resting.  They  dreaded  lest  the  unfriends  of  the  king  should  seek  for  the 
body  even  where  it  was,  if  they  saw  these  tokens;  so  therefore  Thorgils 
and  his  son  were  wistful  to  bring  the  body  away  to  some  such  place 
that  it  should  be  safe  there.  They  made  a  chest,  and  wrought  it  in  the 
best  way  they  could,  and  laid  therein  the  body  of  the  king ;  sithence 
they  made  another  lyke-chest  and  put  into  it  straw  and  stones,  so  that 
it  should  be  the  weight  of  a  man,  and  locked  that  chest  heedfuUy. 

"  Now,  when  the  whole  host  of  the  bonders  was  gone  away  from 
Sticklestead,  Thorgils  and  Grim  arrayed  their  journey.  Thorgils  got  a 
certain  rowing-ferry;  they  were  seven  or  eight  together,  and  all  of  them 
kinsmen  or  friends  of  Thorgils.  They  brought  the  body  of  the  king 
on  board  stealthily,  and  put  the  chest  under  deck.  That  chest  they  also 
had  with  them,  wherein  were  the  stones,  and  set  that  on  board  ship,  so 
that  all  men  might  see  it;  and  after  that  they  fare  along  the  firth,  with 
a  fair  wind,  and  came  in  the  evening,  as  mirk  set  in,  down  to  Nidoyce, 
and  lay-to  by  the  king's  pier.  Then  Thorgils  sent  men  up  into  the 
town,  and  let  tell  to  Bishop  Sigurd  that  they  fared  there  with  the  body 
of  King  Olaf.  And  when  the  bishop  heard  these  tidings,  he  sent  forth- 
with his  men  down  to  the  bridges,  where  they  took  a  rowing  cutter  and 
boarded  the  ship  of  Thorgils,  and  bade  him  hand  over  to  them  the 
body  of  the  king.  Then  Thorgils  and  his  men  took  the  chest  which 
stood  upon  the  deck,  and  bore  it  into  the  cutter;  whereupon  these  men 
rowed  out  into  the  firth,  and  there  sunk  down  the  chest. 

"By  this  time  it  was  the  mirk  of  night.  Thorgils  and  his  men  then 
rowed  up  the  river,  until  the  town  was  cleared,  and  laid  to  shore  where 
it  was  called  Saurlithe,  which  was  above  the  town;  and  then  they  bore 
the  body  up  and  into  a  certain  waste  outhouse  which  stood  there,  up 
away  from  other  houses,  and  there  they  waked  over  the  body  the  night 
through.  But  Thorgils  went  down  into  the  town,  and  met  there  men 
to  talk  to,  such  as  had  been  most  friends  of  King  Olaf,  and  asked  them 
if  they  would  take  over  the  body  of  the  king  ;  but  no  man  durst  to  do 
it.  Then  Thorgils  and  Grim  biought  the  body  up  along  the  river,  and 
buried  it  in  a  certain  sand-hill  which  there  is,  and  sithence  dight  the 
place,  so  that  no  new  work  might  be  seen  thereon.  All  this  they  had 
done  before  the  dawn  of  day ;  and  then  went  back  to  their  ship  and  put 
out  of  the  river  at  once,  and  went  on  their  way  until  they  came  home 
to  Sticklestead."  (Chapter  251.) 


154  NOTES 

"That  winter  uphove  the  word  of  many  men  there  in  Thrandheim, 
that  Kinf^  Olaf  was  a  truly  holy  man,  and  that  many  tokens  befell 
at  his  holy  relic.  And  then  many  began  to  make  vows  to  Kinj^  Olaf 
about  those  matters  whereon  they  had  set  their  hearts.  From  such  vows 
many  folk  got  bettering  ;  some  the  bettering  of  their  health,  some  good 
speed  for  journeys,  or  other  such  things  as  were  looked  upon  as  need- 
ful." (Chapter  204.) 

"  Bishop  Grimkel  went  to  see  Einar  Thambarskelfir,  and  Einar  gave 
the  bishop  a  hearty  welcome,  and  they  spoke  about  many  matters, 
and  this  withal,  of  the  great  tidings  which  had  befallen  in  the  land. 
And  in  all  their  talk  they  were  of  one  accord  together.  Sithence  fared 
the  bishop  up  to  Chippingham,  and  there  all  the  folks  gave  him  a  good 
welcome.  Hespeered  heedfullyat  all  the  wonders  that  were  told  of  King 
Olaf,  and  heard  tell  well  thereof.  Then  the  bishop  sent  word  up  to 
Sticklestead  to  Thorgils,  and  Grim,  his  son,  and  summoned  them  down 
to  the  town  to  meet  him  there.  The  father  and  son  laid  not  that  jour- 
ney under  their  head,  but  fared  down  to  the  town  to  meet  the  bishop. 
And  they  told  him  all  those  tokens,  whereof  they  had  knowledge,  and 
this  withal,  where  they  had  bestowed  the  body  of  the  king.  Then  the 
bishop  sent  for  Einar  Thambarskelfir,  and  he  also  came  to  the  town; 
and  he  and  Einar  spake  with  the  king  and  with  Alfiva,  praying  that 
the  king  would  give  leave  to  take  King  Olafs  body  out  of  the  earth. 
The  king  gave  leave  thereto,  and  bade  the  bishop  go  about  that  matter 
as  he  would.  There  was  then  mickle  throng  of  folk  in  the  town.  So  the 
bishop  and  Einar  and  other  men  with  them  fared  thereto,  whereas  the 
body  of  the  king  was  buried,  and  let  digging  be  done  there,  and  the 
chest  was  then  come  up  well-nigh  out  of  the  earth.  Many  men  urged 
that  the  bishop  should  let  the  chest  be  buried  in  earth  at  Clement's 
Church,  and  so  it  was  done.  And  when  twelve  months  and  five  nights 
were  worn  from  the  death  of  King  Olaf,  his  holy  relic  was  taken  up, 
and  again  the  chest  was  well-nigh  come  up  out  of  the  earth,  and  then 
the  chest  of  King  Olaf  was  as  span-new  as  if  it  had  been  newly  shaven. 
.  .  .  Then  was  the  body  of  the  king  borne  into  Clement's  Church,  and 
laid  out  over  the  high  altar.  The  chest  was  wrapt  in  pall,  and  hang- 
ings of  goodly  web  done  around.  And  straightway  many  marvels  befell 
at  the  holy  relic  of  King  Olaf."  (Chapter  258.) 

"There,  in  the  sand-heap,  where  King  Olaf  had  lain  in  earth,  there 
came  up  a  fair  well,  and  many  folk  gat  healing  of  their  ills  of  that  water. 
The  well  was  built  over,  and  that  water  hath  ever  since  been  heedfully 


NOTES 


155 


guarded.  First  there  was  made  a  chapel  there,  and  the  altar  was  reared 
where  had  been  the  tomb  of  the  king;  but  now  stands  on  that  stead 
Christ  Church  ;  and  Archbishop  Eystein  had  the  high  altar  set  up  on 
that  same  stead,  where  the  king's  tomb  had  been,  when  he  reared  the 
great  minster  which  now  standeth,  and  on  that  same  stead  had  also 
stood  the  altar  in  the  ancient  Christ  Church.  So  it  is  said,  that  Olafs 
church  now  stands,  where  that  waste  outhouse  stood  where  the  body 
of  King  Olaf  was  set  nightlong.  That  is  now  called  OlafVlithc  where 
the  holy  relic  of  the  king  was  borne  aland  up  from  the  ship,  and  is 
now  in  the  midst  of  the  town."  (Chapter  259.) 

The  foregoing  extracts  from  the  Saga  of  Olaf  the  Holy,  together 
with  the  Note  on  the  Fifteenth  Song,  are  given  for  the  purpose  of  show- 
ing how  the  death  of  the  King  impressed  even  those  who  had  fought 
against  him.  In  the  final  scene  between  Kalv  Arnesson  and  Tore,  we  see 
that  doubt  is  already  invading  their  minds —  doubt  of  the  justice  of  the 
cause  in  which  they  have  fought,  and  of  their  conception  of  the  King  as 
the  enemy  of  his  country.  After  his  death  his  fame  as  a  miracle-worker 
grew  rapidly,  and  tale  after  tale  added  to  the  legend  which  caused  Bishop 
Grimkel,  a  year  after  the  battle  of  Stiklestad,  to  confer  official  saint- 
hood upon  him.  Tore  was  driven  by  remorse  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to 
Jerusalem  not  long  thereafter,  and  it  was  Kalv  who,  breaking  with  the 
Danish  King,  went  to  Russia  to  fetch  Magnus,  Olafs  illegitimate  son, 
and  place  him  upon  the  throne  of  Norway.  The  reliquary  of  King  Olaf 
in  St.  Clement's  Church  became  a  shrine  for  hosts  of  pilgrims,  and  the 
St.  Olaf  cult  led  to  the  erection  of  the  great  Domkirke  (or  cathedral) 
upon  the  site,  as  well  as  to  the  building  of  nine  other  churches  and 
five  monasteries  in  Throndhjem.  The  Reformation  ended  these  pilgrim- 
ages, swept  away  most  of  the  churches  and  monasteries,  and  caused 
the  reliquary  to  be  carried  off,  and  the  King's  remains  to  be  buried  in 
some  unknown  spot.  The  Domkirke  has  been  partly  destroyed  by  fire 
several  times,  but  judiciously  restored,  and  it  stands  to-day  the  noblest 
monument  of  architecture  in  the  Scandinavian  north.  It  is  the  burial- 
place  of  many  of  the  kings  of  Norway,  and  the  place  where  the  Eids- 
vold  Constitution  of  18 14  requires  the  kings  to  be  crowned,  as  was 
done  in  1873  in  the  case  of  Oscar  the  Second,  and  in  1903  in  the  case 
of  Haakon  the  Seventh. 


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Henry  Goddard  Leach,  Secretary  of  the  Foundation 

SCANDINAVIAN  CLASSICS 

I.  Comedies  by  Holberg  :  Jeppe  of  the  Hi//,  The  Politi- 
cal Tinker,  Erasmus  Montanus 

Translated  from  the  Danish  by  Oscar  James  Campbell,  Jr.,  and 
Frederic  Schenck,  with  an  Introduction  by  Oscar  James  Camp- 
bell, Jr.   1914-  XV +178  pages.  Price  ^1.50 

To  the  American-Scamlinavian  Foundation  the  English  reading  public  is  in- 
debted for  the  first  adequate  attempt  to  introduce  the  versatile  genius  who  built 
the  foundation  for  drama  in  Denmark.  It  is  not  an  attempt  at  "revival."  Lud- 
vig Holberg  is  too  lusty  to  admit  of  reviving;  he  still  lives,  and  most  heartily 
at  that.  Nciv  York  Times. 

II.  Poems  by  Tegner  :  The  Children  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per, Frithiof's  Saga 

Translated  from  the  Swedish  by  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow, 
and  by  Rev.  W.  LeweryBlackley,  with  an  Introduction  by  Paul 
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The  life  of  Tegner  was  for  the  most  part  a  happy  one,  and  this  happiness  is 
reflected  in  the  optimism  of  his  poetry.  Boston  Herald. 

III.  Poems  and  Songs  by  Bjornstjerne  Bjornson 

Translated  from  the  Norwegian  in  the  Original  Meters,  with  an 
Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Arthur  Hubbell  Palmer.  191  5. 
xxii4-264  pages.  Price  $1.50 

Lovers  of  Bjornson  will  be  grateful  to  the  translator  for  the  sympathetic 
loyalty  with  which  he  has  atlhered  to  the  words  as  well  as  the  spirit  of  the 


original.  Not  least  will  they  appreciate  the  fact  that  he  has  left  the  hewn 
stones  of  Bjornson's  lines  in  their  native  ruggeiiness  instead  of  attempting  to 
reduce  them  to  a  brick-and-mortar  smoothness.  Yale  Rcvieiv. 

IV.  Master  Olof  by  August  Strindberg 

Translated  from  the  Swedish,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Edwin 
BjoRKMAN.  I  91  5.  xxiii+ 125  pages.  Price  ^1.50 

In  Strindberg's  presentation  of  his  hero,  Olof  becomes  the  prototype  of  all 
idealistic  reformers,  uncompromising  at  moments  as  Ibsen's  Brand,  but  more 
living  than  he  because  more  subtly  studied  in  his  moods  of  weakness  as  well 
as  in  his  exultation  of  strength.  Dial. 

V.  'The  Prose  Edda  by  Snorri  Sturluson 

Translated  from  the  Icelandic,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Arthur 
Gilchrist  Brodeur.  19  i  6.  xxii  +  266  pages.  Price  $1.50 

This  should  attract  three  classes  of  readers,  students  of  Scandinavian  history, 
myth,  and  literature;  lovers  of  folklore  and  the  primitive  simplicities  in  lan- 
guage and  literature;  and  poets.  Independent . 

VI.  Modern  Icelandic  Plays:  Eyvind  of  the  Hi  lis  ^ 
The  Hraun  Farm,  by  Johann  Sigurjonsson 

Translated  from  the  Danish  by  Henninge  Krohn  Schanche. 
1 91 6.  xii+ I  34  pages.  Price  ^1.50 

The  first  play  in  this  volume,  "Eyvind  of  the  Hills,"  has  stirred  us  as  have 
few  dramas  published  in  recent  years.  The  characters,  breaking  away  from  the 
circumscribed  life  of  everyday  mortals,  carry  the  reader  with  them  to  regions 
of  clearer  air  and  finer  perceptions.  The  whole  play  is  filled  with  what  is  strong, 
elemental,  and  clear-visioned,  with  that  heroic  quality  which  world-drama 
sorely  needs.  Theatre  ^rts  Magazine, 

VII.  Marie  Grubbe  by  Jens  Peter  Jacobsen 

Translated  from  the  Danish,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Hanna 
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VIII.  Arnljot  Gelline  by  Bjornstjerne  Bjornson 
Translated  from  the  Swedish,  with  an  Introduction,  by  William 
Morton  Payne.   1917.  xiv+155  pages.  Price  $1.50 

IX.  Anthology  of  Swedish  Lyrics 

Compiled  and  translated  in  the  original  metres,  with  an  Introduction, 
by  Charles  Wharton  Stork,  i  91  7.  Price  ^1.50 


SCANDINAVIAN  MONOGRAPHS 

I.  T'he  Voyages  of  the  Norsemen  to  America 

By  William  Hovgaard.  With  eighty-three  Illustrations  and  seven 
Maps.  1914.  xxi+304  pages.  Price  ^4.00 

There  has  always  been  a  peculiar  fascination  for  the  student  of  American 
history  in  that  chapter  of  it  which  deals  with  the  pre-Columbian  discovery 
of  this  continent.  .  .  .  To  sweep  away  the  cobwebs  of  error  is  no  small  task, 
but  Professor  Hovgaard's  book,  with  its  painstaking  following  of  the  scientific 
method,  shouhi  go  a  long  way  toward  its  completion.  .  .  .  Professor  Hovgaard 
has  made  the  best  complete  exposition  up  to  date  of  the  voyages  of  the  Norse- 
men to  America.   Boston  Transcript. 

II.  Ballad  Criticism  in  Scandinavia  and  Great  Brit- 
ain during  the  Eighteenth  Century 

By  Sigurd  Bernhard  Hustvedt.  i 916.  ix  +  335  pages.  Price 
$3.00 

III.  T'he  Kind's  Mirror 

Translated  from  the  Norwegian  of  the  thirteenth  century,  with  an 
Historical  Introduction,  by  Lawrence  Marcellus  Larson,  i  91  7. 
Price  ^3.00 


THE  AMERICAN-SCANDINAVIAN  REVIEW 

The  Review  is  an  illustrated  magazine,  published  bi-monthly,  pre- 
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Norway. 

Volume  I,  191  3.  192  pages.  Price  $5.00 
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Volume  III,  191  5.  384  pages.  Price  $2.50 
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The  Review  has  an  admirable  array  of  articles,  and  it  is  hoped  will  be  well 
and  widely  received.  The  Scandinavian  peoples  have  contributed  of  their  best 
blood  to  the  American  nation,  and  we  should  draw  from  their  resources  of  cul- 
ture also.  Chicago  Tribune. 

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